Two Years
by Kainaku
Summary: A hundred snippets of the two years the Elric brothers spent in the Rockbell home after the Promised Day.
1. Childhood Friend

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

067: Childhood Friend

Neither can quite remember how it started. It might have been when each noticed the other holding on to that first hug a little longer than necessary. It might have been the brushing against the other in the hallway that was too accidental to have been a mistake. It might have been when they both realized he was taller than her.

They both could agree what was happening, though. Three childhood friends were finally reunited, and two of them were ruining it by being weird. The three of them, once inseparable, were now falling victim to teenage hormones.

Alphonse noticed the change first. He was in the best position, after all. He saw how every time Winry came in the room, Edward's eyes would not leave her. He saw how Winry seemed mesmerized by Edward's restored arm. He saw how both of their smiles were too bright, but how both used them to try and cover up the awkward silences.

Winry realized things were changing not too long after Alphonse. She noticed how the comfortable quiet she and Edward had shared during maintenance sessions was morphing into badly placed commas and ellipses. She had seen this happen before when she was in town with Nelly or Paninya. The other girls would stumble over their words when a cute boy paid attention to them (or in Paninya's case, she would hold up the boy's belt and ask if she could return it at dinner). Winry thought she was beyond such typically girly behavior, but everything was different for her when it came to Edward. Most of the time, she just did not know what to do. She would finally push out what she was trying to say, and then blush madly, knowing exactly how odd it sounded.

Edward was the last to know—not that this surprised either Alphonse or Winry. However, he cottoned on sooner than the other two would have expected. He did not care about the new punctuation in their conversations. What hit him was the way he would always touch the earrings she gave him whenever he thought of her. Winry's earrings, precious metal she had entrusted in him to keep safe, were always in his pocket. They felt smooth and cool when he would rub the silver with his right hand. These thoughts, he noticed, always seemed followed by a goofy grin which Alphonse or Pinako would point out with some eyebrow waggling.

All three of them knew the change was likely to be irreversible. Either Edward and Winry would get together in an explosion of fiery personalities, or one would back off before the other got the courage to do anything about it. These childhood friends were entering uncharted territories.


	2. Secret

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

028: Secret

It had been two months since they came home, and Alphonse was finally starting to look like a normal kid. A bit skinny, but that could be attributed to a growth spurt. Personally, he preferred the term lanky.

Autumn was setting in, making the hot days cool off quickly in the evenings. Mornings were thick with fog and dew, but this was the time Alphonse liked best. He would sneak out of his room, brew a pot of tea and savor it out on the porch.

He liked the swirls and depth to the fog. He liked the damp that would envelope him. He liked not having to worry about rusting.

Pinako would sometimes join him, with a nod and her own steaming mug.

Some mornings, Winry would be leaning on the balcony upstairs, taking a break after an all-nighter. Whenever she was up there, she would brace her elbows on the rail and hold her head, looking for the sunrise. Most of the time, Alphonse couldn't tell if she was daydreaming or really dreaming.

One morning, he caught Edward up abnormally early keeping her company. Alphonse tried to be as quiet as possible (for observation purposes only, thanks very much).

He saw Edward imitating Winry, his elbow touching hers. Neither really paid any attention to the other. They just sat side by side, letting droplets of water collect on their clothes and in their hair.

Winry broke the reverie by giving an involuntary shiver. Edward blinked and looked at her.

"Well, maybe you should wear some real clothes," Alphonse heard him mutter.

Winry twitched a little from both the cold and irritation. "There's nothing wrong with my clothes."

"Tch."

Alphonse noticed Winry turn her glare full on toward his brother. He held his breath.

"You've never complained before, Ed," she retorted.

Alphonse was biting his lip now. He couldn't see Edward's face, but he could hear the embarrassed sputterings of his brother trying to think of a suitable comeback.

"Wha–er–It's not ladylike!"

Alphonse wanted to slap his forehead.

"Not ladylike?" He saw Winry lean a little closer to Edward. Alphonse could almost see the feral gleam in her eyes. "You wouldn't recognize a 'lady' if she paraded around half-naked."

"Tha–That's not true!" Edward kept digging deeper. "You're a girl, aren't you?"

"Brilliant observation, Edward."

"And the lieutenant's a woman! And Mrs. Hughes!"

Alphonse heard Winry sigh and hit her head on the railing in frustration. Edward was still babbling a litany of ladies he knew, but Winry was reaching into a pocket, pulling out her most trusted tool. After a swift conk to Edward's head, Winry resumed leaning against the rail.

"Go back to bed, Edward," she said.

"And get a clue," Alphonse muttered, giving in to his earlier urge and smacking his forehead in exasperation.


	3. Goodbye

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

094: Goodbye

"We weren't sure if we should wait for you boys."

"It's okay, Auntie," Alphonse sighed, staring at the new headstone. It was situated next to his mother's, and he couldn't think of anywhere better for his father to rest.

Pinako took a pull from her pipe. "He was happy."

Alphonse gave a small smile. "I'm glad."

A few minutes later, he looked at his companion and nodded. The two left the graveyard and headed back to the Rockbell house.

When Edward saw his brother later, there was a tense silence, a narrowing of eyes, and a tight nod. Other than that, the Edward didn't ask about his father's grave.

It was nighttime when Edward made his solitary trek to the hilltop cemetery. Winry had positively pushed him out of the house (she threatened to detach his leg while he was sleeping if he didn't go). She said he needed to say goodbye.

He dragged himself over to the familiar spot by his mother. There was the stone claiming a place for Van Hohenheim to finally rest.

"Goodbye, old man," he muttered. "You lousy shit."

Edward stood there, hands shoved into his pockets for a few minutes longer. Finally, he heaved a sigh, kicked a pebble and trudged out of the cemetery.

**A/N:** I think this is my least favorite I've done so far (Probably the lack of Ed/Win fluff). But seeing as these are supposed to be in some _rough_ chronological order, I feel like it's a moment during the boys' time in Resembool that needs to be covered. Meh.


	4. Irregularity

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

048: Irregularity

It was an abnormally hot day when Alphonse finally managed to convince Edward he could handle some light sparring. The two brothers were tumbling around in the yard while Winry was holed away in her room, working on some preliminary automail sketches.

About fifteen minutes of listening to the boys' fighting through the open window was all it took for Winry to lose her concentration. Frustrated, she stomped out onto the second floor balcony, fully prepared to throw a wrench and lecture the brothers for distracting her. She was testing the weight of the tool when she saw it.

Something was glinting in Edward's shoulder. Something that looked suspiciously like a bolt. After watching the boys wrestle for a few more minutes, Winry noticed there were several tiny bits of automail embedded in his shoulder.

She turned on her heel and went downstairs, intent on examining her patient up close. By the time she stepped onto the porch, both boys had collapsed happily in the shaggy grass.

"Not too bad, Al," Edward sighed.

"If only my body would catch up with my mind!" Alphonse groaned, hitting the ground with his fist. "I can't believe you tossed me! I'm sick and tired of the atrophy."

"Give it a few more weeks, little brother."

"I know. I'm just tired of waiting."

While the two brothers talked, Winry snuck down the steps and closer to Edward. She could see little pieces of metal shining in the scar tissue surrounding his right shoulder. She was close enough to touch it.

"AGH!" Edward jumped up and glared at Winry, who still had her arm outstretched and a finger trying to poke a bolt. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"Tell you what?"

"There's metal in your shoulder."

Edward snorted and sat back down on the grass. "'Course there is."

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

He wouldn't look at her. She knew something was up. Luckily, Alphonse called Edward out first.

"Brother, don't lie," he said quietly.

Edward turned his glare to his brother. "I'm not."

"You've been favoring your left side lately."

"Well, my arm's been suffering from atrophy, too, ya know?"

Alphonse rolled his eyes. Winry looked carefully at Edward. He sat hunched, picking at the grass in front of him. Looking at his shoulder, she could see the scar tissue was red and a little swollen around the embedded bits of metal.

"We should probably see what else is left of your shoulder port, Ed," she said.

Edward just muttered dolefully under his breath and heartlessly tore up an innocent patch of dandelions.

"Whatever."


	5. Homemade

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

032: Homemade

Both brothers could agree apple pie was the best. It was the best _what_ they disagreed on.

Edward appreciated a slice in the morning to sweeten his coffee and often snuck a piece or three as a midnight snack. Alphonse liked to watch how apple pie brought people together rather than eating as much as he could.

Sure, the younger brother might have been without his taste buds for a few years (and he savored the flavors of the pie all the more for it), but that only gave him ample opportunity to observe how people acted around apple pie.

It always started out as a solitary venture on the baker's part, but invariably, the kitchen crowded with people to watch in hungry fascination.

One autumn morning found Winry peeling and slicing apples. Alphonse was the first to sit back and enjoy the show. Instead of relaxing on the porch with his morning tea, he happily sat at the table watching his best friend cook.

A few minutes later, the sounds of chopping and tuneless humming brought Den padding into the room, laying her head in Alphonse's lap. He obliged the dog and reveled in the feeling of her fur—coarse yet soft. Den rewarded him with a contented yawn before settling down on the floor, using his bare feet as a pillow.

With the apples prepped, Winry gathered the ingredients for the dough. As she smashed the butter and flour together, she cradled the large mixing bowl to her hip with one arm and walked over to Alphonse.

"I'm gonna need your help in a bit, 'kay Al?" She told him.

"Sure thing," he replied.

Soon enough, after a little more flour, salt and water, Winry began to delegate.

"Put some flour on the table and go get the rolling pin from the pantry."

"Yes, ma'am," Al mock saluted her. He gently dislodged Den, and the dog gave him a piteous look before resettling her head on her paws.

Al got the flour canister from the counter and doused the wooden table in it. Then he trundled off to collect the rolling pin. As he passed the door into the sitting room, he ran into Pinako on her way down to the workshop.

"Apple pie again?"

"Yes, Auntie. One of the neighbors brought over some fresh apples yesterday, and Winry wanted to use them."

Pinako sighed. "Doesn't that girl know how to make anything else?"

Al just chuckled and retrieved the rolling pin. Winry was waiting for him, with two neat rounds of dough in front of her.

When Edward finally came in, Al was sitting back down watching Winry roll out one ball into a neat circle. Her hands were covered in white dust, and there were a few smudges on her face.

"Pie?" Edward asked from the doorway.

"Yup!" Winry grinned back at him.

Both brothers watched her work, Al was guarding his mug from stray puffs of flour and Edward leaned on the door jamb with a frown on his face.

"You know," he started. "You could just have Al transmute the raw ingredients into a pie."

Winry shook her head but kept working.

"It'd be a lot easier."

Winry felt it would be safer to chance a glance at Alphonse. He just blinked at her over his mug of tea and shrugged his shoulders.

"And alchemy was born in the kitchen," Edward continued.

Sighing, Winry stopped rolling out the second dough ball to look at Edward.

"All you'd have to do is measure out the ingredients, and with a quick transmutation, everything's practically done for you."

"Ed, isn't alchemy supposed to help people?" She replied.

"What's not helpful about making pies faster?"

Winry smacked a floury hand to her forehead, muttering about teenaged boys always thinking with their stomachs. Alphonse laughed and Edward smirked at the white handprint left on the girl's face and bangs.

"You got a little somethin'," Al giggled at her, gesturing towards his face. She just threw him a cross look, causing Edward to burst out laughing.

Winry harrumphed and threw the wooden rolling pin at the elder brother. Her aim was true as always, and Edward found one cheek plastered to the wall with a large welt on his forehead and stars exploding in his eyes.

"There," Winry said primly. "We match."

She transferred the dough she had been rolling out into a pie tin and began to place the apples in, adding a little extra cinnamon on top. As she began to lattice the top crust, she looked over at Edward. He had moved to sit beside his brother and was glaring at her.

Alphonse peered over the rim of his tea, checking to see if it was safe to come out. Seeing his brother and best friend engaged in a silent battle, he decided he could voice his opinion without getting clobbered.

"I don't think a transmuted pie would taste as good, brother," he said. The other two stopped their fuming and looked at him. Suddenly, Al thought he might have been safer back behind his tea, "I–I mean, I think it–it'd be missing something."

"Like what? If you have enough apples, flour and sugar, equivalent exchange would cover everything," Edward grumbled.

"Well," Alphonse paused, wondering how he could phrase it properly. "I guess it would be _technically_ the same, but it wouldn't be as good as the real thing."

"Why?"

"Um, take Winry's pie for example," he tried to explain. "She makes everything by hand—picking out the apples, peeling and slicing them. And then she takes care to make the crust flakey and just the right thickness. And look how carefully she puts it all together."

"What's your point, Al?"

"What would be the equivalent exchange for all the, well, _love_ she puts in it?"

Edward's eyes widened and his jaw went slack. Winry lowered her face, trying to conceal the grin threatening to break free as he snuck a glance over at her, examining her movements to find a flaw in his brother's argument. His eyes followed her hands as they deftly trimmed off the excess dough and added a light egg wash on the top of her masterpiece.

Winry took another peak at his face, and had to fight down a giggle at the seriousness of it. She quickly bit her lip to stifle a little leak of laughter, drawing Edward's attention to her face. His ears started turning red, and Alphonse let out a small cackle.

"Well, brother?" he said, eyebrows waggling.

**A/N:** Long one! I don't actually have set word limits I'm trying to prescribe to, so these might pop out occasionally. :D


	6. Rejection

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

064: Rejection

The Rockbells needed to get creative to find every metal piece still embedded in Edward's now flesh shoulder. The port may have exploded as a whole, but small bits of shrapnel still clung tight to their former home. These residual pieces made it impossible for a standard x-ray. The magnets and the iron alloys used in the port would react terribly; painfully.

However, their creativity needed to be put into action before they could even choose between going into Central to use some new scanning machine there or smearing Edward up with some jelly and using the sonogram in the house. First, they needed to convince the boy to hold still.

After a few days of cajoling (and several pies) later, the Rockbell women finally manage to sit their ornery patient down. They opted for the sonogram. It was easier than trying to kidnap Edward and take him to Central.

Edward sat at the end one of the patient beds, fuming silently. Every now and then, he could be heard huffing in indignation. His agitation allowed Winry to sneak up behind him and squirt some of the goo required for the procedure on him.

"GAH!" Edward jumped up and turned around, glaring daggers at his mechanic.

Winry just blinked innocently at him.

"What the hell did you do that for?" He grumbled.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Winry began, narrowing her eyes. "We need to use the jelly to reduce the friction between the transducer," she held up a probe and poked him with it, "and you."

Edward glowered at her, muttering under his breath about freaking automail junkies and their stupid medical equipment and their dumb jelly. Winry crossed her arms and glowered back at him.

"Get back on the bed so we can do it already," she commanded.

Edward blinked, but couldn't decide whether to laugh at her or blush at the double entendre. He settled for a leer and some waggling eyebrows.

"Well, Win, I hear a little friction could be good for that sort of thing."

Winry flushed bright pink, eyes going wide as saucers and gaped at him. After a few seconds of listening to Edward cackling at her embarrassment, she shut her mouth with an audible click and leered back at him.

"Well, Ed, you've obviously never heard of _lubricant_."

Edward shut his mouth so quickly he almost caught his tongue. Smirking, Winry squirted some more goo on his shoulder and started the procedure.

**A/N:** Sorry I've been a bit late with this one, but I've been moving around a lot. I've got another two weeks in limbo before I'll be settled in my apartment for the semester, so there will be some janky updates in the mean time.


	7. Time Limit

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

062: Time limit

Once again, Edward had been wrangled into the surgery room by the Rockbell women. Pinako and Winry were both rummaging around in surgical scrubs, collecting the various tools they would need for the extraction.

Edward simply sat on the surgical bed with his arms and legs crossed, glowering at their backs.

Finally, Pinako came by and set down a tray of scalpels, forceps and retractors next to the bed. Edward transferred his scowl to the tools. Winry set another tray down on the other side of the bed, and he turned and scowled at those.

That was when he saw _it_.

Sitting innocuously by some gauze and cotton padding, a hypodermic needle. His grimace deepened, and he caught Winry's eye. Winry frowned right back at him, hands on her hips.

Pinako tugged on Edward's ponytail.

"Sit on back, pipsqueak, and we'll get this over with."

Edward continued to sit rigidly, making sure _it_ didn't make any sudden movements.

"You guys didn't say anything about one of _those_ being involved," he said darkly.

"What did you expect, Ed?" Winry found his irrational behavior annoying, and simply wanted to get the procedure done. "We're not going to rip open your shoulder without numbing it first."

"Didn't stop you before."

"That was _automail_, this is an extraction procedure. We don't need to make sure the nerves are connecting to anything."

"Tch."

Winry threw her hands up. "Grow up, Ed!"

"That's kind of hard for a bean like him," Pinako muttered.

"I'VE GROWN THREE DAMN INCHES, YOU OLD HAG!"

"Three inches shorter, I'm sure." Pinako gave Winry a significant look. Winry just rolled her eyes and nodded. Steadily, the two women switched sides of the bed while Edward continued to grind out evidence of his increasing height.

"Well, Ed, if you're so damn scared of a tiny little piece of metal, you can keep the port in your shoulder!" Winry yelled back as she completed the maneuver.

"Good! That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole damn time!"

Winry smiled sweetly at him. Suddenly, Edward was rethinking his words.

"Just know," she started lowly, "that by keeping that metal in your arm, it's a ticking time bomb. The more you move the muscles, the more the metal will aggravate the tissue. The tissue will swell, scar and stiffen until you'll have a lame shoulder."

She paused, nose-to-nose with her patient.

"And that's the happy ending. Keeping those pieces in there, surrounded by all your muscle could break the bone joint all-together. If they don't rip your muscle to shreds, they'll migrate into your shoulder socket, erode it, and then you won't even be good for another automail arm."

Edward blanched. "Shit."

"Yeah." By now, Winry was holding his shoulder still, and Pinako was finishing the injection of the local anesthesia. Winry leaned back and smiled brightly. "All done, Granny?"

Edward whipped his head around to see the old woman brandishing the empty hypodermic needle with a wolfish grin.

"Yup."

"Wh–What the hell did you d–do to me?" Edward sputtered.

Pinako's grin widened, and she punched his shoulder. Edward just gaped at her. "Numbed you up."

Winry had to hold back laughter as Edward continued opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the right expletive.

"Ed, you look like a fish!"

"Better watch it, Ed, or you'll have even more in common with a shrimp than just your height," Pinako added.

Edward let out an exasperated sigh and threw his hands up in defeat. Well, it would have been hands, except the anesthezed arm just twitched. Both women threw their heads back and laughed.


	8. TwoSeater

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

034: Two-seater

Edward and Alphonse walked through the yellowing fields of Resembool, enjoying the last of the good fall weather. A few jewel bright leaves clung to their respective branches, and there were still a small patches of greenery stubbornly clinging to the mild temperatures.

The brothers knew there was a freeze coming. Edward could feel it in his left leg and his still-recuperating right shoulder (Winry only agreed to let him out of the house if he wore a sling).

Alphonse stopped on a hill, looking across the horizon. The main street of town was only a few miles away, and smoke swirled lazily from the chimneys. He could see a few people finishing up their shopping before the sun finally set and the nightly chill swept in.

He heaved a sigh, a small smile sitting contentedly on his face.

"It's good to be back, isn't it, brother?"

"Yeah," Edward murmured, surveying the same scene.

Steadily, the boys made their way down the hill and into the lee of the next hillock when they found something odd.

A few sheep scrambled away as they approached the rusted out shell of an antique automobile. Its two leather seats were sun-baked and peeling. The wooden paneling and running boards were warped, and there seemed to be a shrubbery growing through the spokes of a back wheel.

"Cool!" Alphonse scampered over to the relic and began investigating. Edward chuckled and plopped down on the ground to relax.

"I think you're spending too much time around Winry, Al," he called over.

"You're just jealous!"

"Tch. The last thing I need is more time around some machinery junkie."

Alphonse popped his head up from where he was examining the engine compartment. "That's not what Brigadier General Hughes thought!"

"He wasn't asked!"

"Sheesh, brother. There's no need to get so defensive."

"I'm not being defensive! What would I be defending?"

"You're appreciation for the combination of long legs and a mini-skirt."

"I don–Wait, what?" Edward stopped flailing his free arm and stared at his brother.

Alphonse just laughed and found a new cavity in the automobile to explore.

Edward rolled his eyes, heaved a huge sigh, and flopped onto his back.

About fifteen minutes later, Alphonse joined his brother and sprawled in the grass, looking at the first stars appearing in the dusky sky.

"You know," Edward started. Alphonse hummed to attention. "Winry would love to try and fix that lunk up."

Alphonse's eyes twinkled merrily.

"Mm, she would."


	9. Hay Fever

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

024: Hay fever

Edward woke with a start. Across the room he could have sworn he heard a small, strangely slurping explosion. And that rarely meant a good day.

"Whad da hell?" he heard his brother mutter. Edward rolled onto his left side, mindful of the bandaging still on his right shoulder.

"Wha's wrong, Alphonse?" he slurred groggily. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes while watching his brother glare at his hands.

"Nuffink," Alphonse sniffed with a slurping wet sound. "I fink I sneezed."

Edward groaned and flopped back onto his bed.

"Brudder?"

Edward grunted.

"Do you fink I haff allergies?"

"'S'possible," Edward muttered. However, Alphonse couldn't hear his brother's reply over another attack of sneezing.

Edward heard the door to the room creak open, and the brothers' best friend peered in with her eyes half lidded and hair sticking up on one side of her head.

"Ed? Al?" She said slowly, her brain still trying to wake up. "Did I hear one of you sneezing?"

"Al's allergic to something." Edward muttered, and again, his reply was covered up by the sounds of mucus trying to escape from his brother's nose.

"What?" Winry called over the ruckus.

"Allergies!" Edward called back, pointing at Alphonse.

Winry groaned and hit her head on the door jamb.

"I'll go get the diphenhydramine."

Edward glanced at the empty doorway and back over to his sniffling brother. Alphonse let loose another slopping sneeze and moaned piteously. Grimacing, Edward threw off the bedclothes and stumbled out of the room.

"And I'll, um," he said to no one in particular. "I'll go make some tea."

Alphonse just glared sullenly at the closing door between sneezing fits.


	10. Therapy

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

014: Therapy

It was raining outside, and Edward was sprawling across the couch reading a book. Winry walked over and couldn't resist poking his unprotected stomach. Edward shifted the book and scowled at her.

"Budge up, Ed."

"What do you want?"

Winry pulled a hand from behind her back, showcasing something green and rubbery in her hand. Edward raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want?" he repeated.

"Scooch over and I'll tell you."

Edward swung his feet off the couch and sat up, leaving the book face down and open in his lap.

"How's your shoulder?" Winry started.

"Better."

"You've been keeping off it when you sleep, right?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm not stupid, Winry."

"Hold your arm out and make a fist," she commanded. Edward did as he was told, and Winry examined his shoulder and arm, looking for any signs of fatigue. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brows.

"What?" Edward asked, trying to keep his mind off how adorable she looked.

"Hold each of my hands, tight as you can."

Reciting the periodic table in his head to try to keep a blush of his face, Edward obeyed.

"Hmm."

"What?" Edward growled, getting annoyed.

"You're right arm is weaker than your left."

"Well, no shit. It was only locked in the Gate for five years."

Winry glared at him. "Thanks for stating the obvious, Ed. I meant since we extracted the port from your shoulder."

"Tch."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to do some therapy." She held out the rubbery green thing she showed him earlier. "This ball will help you get your grip back. It'll also help strengthen all the muscles in your arm, shoulder and back that are used when you make a fist."

Edward grabbed the ball and squeezed it. He smirked.

"Is this a balloon with baking soda in it?"

"It doesn't matter what it's made of, it's the result that's important!"

"You just want me to pop it and get white shit all over me. This is payback for the pie!"

"IT'S PHYSICAL THERAPY, YOU JERK!"

Edward guffawed and threw the ball at Winry. She just beaned him back and stormed away.


	11. To Live

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

057: To live

A fire was crackling merrily in the living room. Alphonse was doing a good imitation of his brother by sprawling out and basking in its warmth. He sighed happily.

"This feels so good!"

Winry chuckled at him as she walked in from the kitchen munching on a handful of almonds. She nudged him with a toe as she passed.

"You're like an overgrown cat, Al," she told him. "You find a warm spot and take up more room than looks possible."

"Does that mean I can get a cat?"

"No, why do we need when we've got you?"

"They're cu–cud–c–cuddly," the boy yawned in reply.

The fire was sending him off to a warm place full of kitties for cuddling and snuggling (or, as most others would call it, a nap).

Keeping a contented smile on her face, Winry made her way over to the older brother. Edward was standing by a window, watching the jack frost trace patterns across the pane. His face was closed and his stance tense.

Winry leaned against the wall on the other side of the window. She looked up at him and sighed. She wanted to know what he was thinking about, but his expression made her assume she wouldn't like it.

Edward blinked out of his reverie and looked back at her. Then he noticed the almonds she was holding and snatched a few.

"Hey! Get your own nuts!"

He grinned and popped the snack into his mouth, crunching noisily. "Already got some."

"You're so crass, Ed," Winry muttered grumpily.

"Yup." He grinned and resumed looking out the window.

Winry rolled her eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" she ventured after a few minutes.

"Where I'm going," he replied without hesitation.

"You're leaving already?"

Edward started and frowned at her.

"Leaving? When did I say anything about leaving? Do you want me gone so quickly?"

"I don't want you going anywhere! You two only just got back here!" She huffed, holding back a few threatening tears. "And _you_ said you were leaving."

"I didn't say I was leaving. I'm just thinking about what I'm gonna do with myself; where I'm going with my life." He poked her shoulder. "Don't jump to conclusions, woman."

"Oh," she finished lamely. Edward just smiled at her and ruffled her hair.

"You should get more almonds."

"You should stop stealing them."

"How else am I supposed to get them?" Edward widened his eyes in feigned innocence.

Winry scoffed at his performance and settled back to watch the fire. The silence stretched on for a few more minutes. Alphonse mumbled in his sleep and rolled over.

Edward looked back and watched his brother. He was smiling softly, and Winry noticed he looked completely content. No worry lined his face, no anxiety tensed his shoulders, and no guilt shrouded his eyes.

"So, where are you going?" She asked quietly. He turned to her, smiling a little wider.

"No where, for a while."


	12. Wing

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

042: Wing

Alphonse walked around outside, his shoes crunching in the frosted grass. He was waiting on Winry to escape Edward's haranguing so they could go into town for groceries. Looking up at the green door, he noticed Winry rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up.

"I know! I'm more of a doctor than you, Ed!" Her voice carried down to him. Alphonse sighed. He only managed to make it out the door after Edward had thrown two sweaters, mittens, a scarf and a heavy coat at him.

"C'mon Winry!" he called up to her. "Just knock him unconscious!"

He heard his brother give an indignant yelp. Giggling to himself, he meandered further down the hill towards the main road. Not long after, Winry crunched up to him and grabbed his arm.

"Good advice, Al."

"He's being so clingy. I thought I was the worrier!"

"He's just trying to pay you back."

Alphonse heaved a sigh. "I know."

They remained quiet for most of the walk into town. And they got the groceries rather quickly. Winry even let him carry a few bags.

Setting the groceries on the kitchen table, Alphonse quickly shed his layers and rolled his shoulder.

"Muscles a little sore?" Winry asked from the pantry.

"Yeah."

"Did you carry too much?" She peeked out from behind the door, frowning.

"Probably," Alphonse grinned. "But it was good to stretch my wings a little."


	13. Sunlight

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

096: Sunlight

It was the crunchy sort of day. Everything was crisp, precise and snapping. The frost sharpened every blade of dry grass into a tiny little dagger. Little crystals wrapped the mostly leafless trees in sparkling coats.

But these little gifts sent early by winter were fragile. The weight of anything more than a dry leaf would snap the grass daggers into pieces. A soft exhale of warm breath would melt away the shimmering frost and reveal the ashy gray bark of a tree trunk.

When Edward found the half drunk mug of creamy coffee still steaming on the counter, he knew Winry was up and about. After poking about the house, he walked out onto the porch in search of his friend. He saw her puttering about by the tree half way between his old home and hers.

Rolling his eyes, he ducked back in the house to grab the two nearest coats before he going rescue Winry from the runny nose she would have later. It was after he tromped down the porch with one arm in his hoodie when he realized he didn't have shoes on. Or socks. And the crystalized grass was _cold_.

Getting closer to the tree, he noticed his friend was busy rubbing at the frosty tree trunk. She was squatting down, one arm wrapped around her knees, the other moving furiously over the bark to melt the ice.

Edward hopped up behind her (trying to keep his right foot off the frozen ground as much as possible) and draped an oversized brown coat over her.

Winry jumped and looked back at him. He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. She smiled brightly.

"Look," she said, pointing at the tree.

Edward knelt down to get eye-level with what she was pointing at. Six letters were carved into the tree. Two E's stacked on an A and an E stacked on a W and an R. Rolling back on his heels, Edward chuckled.

"You're weird to be out here like this, you know?"

Winry kept grinning, brighter than the weak sunlight.

"You're weird for being out here without shoes, you know?"

**A/N:** I like this one. Especially since it's one where I don't rely on the dialogue to move the story. One day, I'll get along with paragraphs longer than two lines. :D


	14. A Silence

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

060: A Silence

"Brother?"

"Hmm?" Edward glanced up from the recipe book he was perusing.

Alphonse looked at the book and raised an eyebrow. Edward rolled his eyes and shut the book.

"I'm hungry, okay?"

"Uh-huh, sure. We just had lunch, how are you still hungry?"

"I can feel a growth spurt coming!"

"And imagining the taste of," Alphonse checked the title again, "'Authentic Cretan Creations' will help that? You've never even been to Creta."

"So?"

"Have you even been to a Cretan restaurant?"

"Of course I have!"

"That grease pit by Eastern Command doesn't count."

"Whatever." Edward crossed his arms and scowled. "Weren't you going to ask me something?"

"Oh!" Alphonse hit the side of his head. "Yeah, sorry, I got distracted."

"Smart ass."

Alphonse grinned. "Anyhow. I was wondering what happened to Winry's earrings. Do you know?"

Edward blinked at his brother. "Nothing happened to them, why?"

"She isn't wearing them."

"Of course she isn't. She gave them to me, didn't she?"

"She did?"

Edward scowled at his brother.

The silence continued for almost a full minute.

Alphonse's mouth rounded, as everything clicked into place. His features then settled into a leer. Edward glared back.

"What?" He ground out.

"Is _that_ what you've been fondling in your pocket?"

As Alphonse predicted, his brother tensed up and tried to throw knives from his eyes.

"I have not been _fondling_ anything."

"Ew, Ed, do your fondling in private!" Winry called as she passed the doorway.

Edward blanched and froze. Slowly, his face took on the color of a maraschino cherry. His eyes were bugging out, and Alphonse was pretty sure he could count his brother's pulse from across the room just by watching the vein popping out on his forehead.

"I'M NOT FONDLING ANYTHING!"


	15. Dirt

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

051: Dirt

Alphonse was humming happily to himself. He managed to sneak out of the house and traipse about town without either Edward or Winry catching him. He spent his time wisely and caught up with Nelly. All in all, it was a delightful outing all on his own. He would make sure more of them happened before the weather got bitterly cold.

Walking by the mailbox, he could see Pinako standing on the porch, smoke curling lazily out of her pipe. He could also hear the calls of both Winry and his brother looking for him. Edward's head poked around the corner of the house and looked around. Alphonse thought he looked a little panicked. Then Edward spotted his little brother walking up the path.

"You!" Edward's face darkened, and he stomped towards his brother.

"Hey, brother," Alphonse replied. He was a little worried about what Edward might do. The older brother looked murderous. Luckily for Alphonse, Winry chose that moment to distract Edward.

"Oy, Ed! You find him yet?" She yelled, trying to climb over the peak of the roof. She scrabbled at the slick, slightly icy shingles trying to get a good hold to keep from falling. Unfortunately, she grabbed one suffering from dry rot.

It ripped loose.

Winry slid down the roof with a startled screech.

Edward saw Alphonse's eyes widen and heard the commotion behind him. He spun around in time to see Winry go sailing off the eave.

"Shit!"

He ran towards the house, clapping his hands. He threw himself at the ground. For a second, he thought it worked. A huge earthen hand formed and caught Winry before she hit the frozen ground. He glanced over his shoulder, and Alphonse was kneeling with both his hands on the ground. Little blue sparks were still arcing across his fingers.

Edward swore again.

He had forgotten. No more alchemy. He took off running once more.

Pinako was already looking after her granddaughter when Edward pulled up panting beside her. Winry groaned and rubbed her back.

"Oh stand up, you're not hurt," Pinako told her.

"No, I'm just a human-shaped bruise," Winry grumbled.

"An ego-shaped one, maybe," the woman shot a chastising glare at her granddaughter as she left to put on some tea. "Walk around, you'll feel better."

Edward was helping Winry stand when Alphonse jogged up the porch steps.

He was surprised Edward was talking quietly to Winry. Alphonse expected his brother to be angrily (or rather, loudly) lecturing their friend about her carelessness. Winry nodded her head and rolled her eyes in response to Edward's questioning. Alphonse opened his mouth to apologize for running off when he saw Edward do something even more out of the ordinary.

He reached out and rubbed off a dirt smudge from Winry's cheek. Alphonse's mouth stayed open, as if inviting the grey sky to snow. Sure, he liked to tease his brother about crushing on their best friend, but it never really sunk in just how _big_ the crush actually was.

Winry was blushing like no tomorrow. Edward pulled his hand back as he realized what he had just done. Alphonse saw him stammering and going through several shades of magenta.

"So, um," Edward spoke a little too loudly to be casual. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"Nope. I'll leave the roof to you, Ed," Winry replied, matching his bravado with false brightness.

"Good." Edward reached out again, but only ruffled Winry's hair. Alphonse tried to keep his giggling quiet as he finally approached them.

Edward heard the porch groan behind him. Faster than a rattlesnake, he turned with a deadly glare already in place and a finger pointing angrily at his brother.

"_You. Are. In. Deep. Shit._"

Alphonse cursed.


	16. Insanity

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

101: Insanity

After more than a month of progressively colder weather, Pinako woke up one morning to find her flannel sheets and quilts thrown to the floor. Sometime overnight, the wind shifted and warm, southern air was gracing Resembool with its presence.

She got up, wrapped herself up in a shawl and slippers, and went downstairs for her morning pot of coffee. And so help her if any teenaged idiot got in her way before she was finished. She barely noticed Alphonse sitting at the table with a tepid cup of tea sitting in front of him.

"'Lo, Auntie," he mumbled, a cheek pressed to the table.

"Don't talk to me," Pinako snapped. Alphonse replied something unintelligible.

Half an hour later, the old woman was on her third cup of coffee and was waiting on a second pot to brew. Alphonse had merely rolled over. Edward tumbled into the kitchen, a rat's nest on the left side of his head and a dark scowl already on his face.

Passing the table, he accidentally pushed his brother's chair, causing Alphonse's face to nudge the mug of tea and a tidal wave of cold liquid spill over the edge and into his ear. Alphonse just groaned.

"What the hell, brother?"

Edward grunted back an apology. Alphonse scowled as his brother sat down next to him with a cup of coffee.

Another ten minutes or so passed before Winry waltzed downstairs. Pinako had started scrambling eggs, Alphonse was still rubbing tea out of his ear, and Edward had his feet on the table. Winry went straight to the icebox and grabbed the milk.

Edward held back a grimace. Winry rolled her eyes.

"Well, you're crazy to be drinking something hot."

"At least my coffee isn't gross."

"I guess beans like beans."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a bean. Coffee's made of beans."

"I am _not_ a bean!"

"Denial is the first step."

"I'm not short! I'm _taller_ than _you_! And I am taking _no_ steps!"

"Anger's the second."

"Why does everyone think I'm short?"

"Third is bargaining."

Edward glared across the table at Winry, silently willing her to burst into flames.

"Depression is next," Pinako piped in from the stove.

"I hate you all."

Alphonse's scowl deepened into a full-on glower. He kicked his foot out and pushed over his brother's precariously balanced chair.

Edward squawked indignantly and crashed into the floor, spilling coffee all over the rug and across his shirt.

"Shit! Hot!" He yelped, and he continued to mutter about gravity unfairly picking on a (..._aw, hell_) small guy.

Alphonse stood and glared down at Edward as he tried to wriggle out of his shirt. "And finally, brother, acceptance."

After Edward finally won the battle with his coffee-soaked shirt, he glared at the room in general as he stalked out.

"You guys are freaking crazy."

**A/N:**

Sorry about the latest lack of updating. I've been rather busy with college and its myriad of ways to ruin my life.

Thanks for sticking with it, and all the feedback!**  
**


	17. Xingese

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

079: Xingese Dress

The warm spell was on its fourth day when the package came. A dusty wagon rolled up the road and left the crate next to the gate. Edward saw the dust cloud as the wagon pulled away, heading towards the next town. He figured some materials or parts arrived for the automail shop. He toddled down the drive and retrieved the crate. It wasn't until he had set it down in the living room that he realized it was sent from Xing.

More specifically, from the royal palace in Xing.

And the worst part: It was addressed to a Miss W. Rockbell.

Suddenly, the good mood he had from the mild weather evaporated. That squinty-eyed princeling was trying to propose to his mechanic again. He _knew_ it.

Edward rocked back on his heels and scratched his neck. There were a few options he could think of: A) he could dig a hole and bury the box altogether before anyone knew it had come, B) he could open it up and check its contents and _then_ decide whether the hole would be necessary, or C) he could send it back.

He pondered on it a few minutes.

Just as he was nodding to himself and about to go in search of a shovel, Alphonse walked into the room. Alphonse had almost passed by without noticing the standoff between Edward and the crate when he doubled back to take a closer look at the package.

"Winry!" he called. "You got something in the mail!"

"Dammit, Al!" Edward snapped at him. "Why'd you have to go and do that?"

"Oooh, it's from Xing, too! I wonder if Mei sent anything..." Alphonse muttered, ignoring his perturbed brother.

"I hope Mr. Garfiel was able to send the parts I asked for," Winry replied as she came down the stairs. "Oooh, it's from Xing!"

At this point Edward was hitting his head against the wall. Just his luck. The one time he needs Alphonse to mind his own business, his little brother goes and does _exactly_ the wrong thing. Fantastic. Just freaking great.

Winry pulled a hammer out of her tool belt and started prying the top of the crate off. Whatever was inside was hidden under at least a bale of hay. Winry happily pulled it all out and threw it to the side. Naturally, Edward got a mouthful, and several bits of straw found their way into his hair. What had started as a bright, and unusually warm, autumn day was quickly becoming one of the worst days of the month. Worse than four days ago. Freaking weather.

"Oooh, Winry!" Alphonse exclaimed as she pulled out a box wrapped in red silk. She loosened up the ribbon on the wrapping and revealed a polished wooden box. The edges fit together neatly, and bright red poppies were painted on the top.

Edward continued to sulk by the wall. He dearly wished Ling was present in the house. He would punch him so hard, the freakishly tall prince would find himself back in Xing.

Winry slid the cover off the pretty wooden box. A green and gold silk brocade robe was folded inside. She pulled it out and the fabric slipped out easily. The green fabric was embroidered richly with golden stands of bamboo and blue flowers.

A note slid down the robe and hit the ground. Winry and Alphonse were too busy cooing over the gift, so Edward swooped in to grab it. The sound of the envelope being ripped to shreds got the other two's attention.

"Ed! That wasn't addressed to you!" Winry yelled.

"How would you know? You didn't even see the envelope!"

Winry scoffed and held out a hand for the note. Edward ignored her and opened it. His eyes zoomed over the words and his eyebrows furrowed. It wasn't until his ears started to turn red that Winry got really curious. Suddenly, he shoved the note in a pocket and stormed out of the living room.

"Ed!" Winry called after him, the robe lying forgotten on the box. "Come back! What did it say? Edward!"

Alphonse rolled his eyes and started looking through what was left in the crate. Who knew? Maybe Mei stuck something in the bottom...


	18. Show me

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

082: Show me

Winry found Edward half an hour later. He had stomped himself out and was sprawled on his back by the tree. Before she was even sure she could see him in the knee-high grass, he sat up and glared at her.

"Go away, Winry."

Winry stopped and stood her ground.

"Tell me what it said."

"No."

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me. You might as well make it quick. Like ripping off a band-aid."

"Good thing I like to prolong pain."

"Edward."

"I'm not gonna tell you, Win."

"Ed. Come on."

"No."

Winry heaved a sigh. She plopped down next to Edward. She noticed the back of his neck was still a little red. Whatever Ling wrote in that note must have really gotten under his skin.

"It couldn't have been that bad, Ed."

"Tch."

She leaned into his shoulder, trying her best puppy eyes. He just pushed her off and turned around. Winry noticed the back of his neck was red again, along with his ears.

"Leave me alone, Winry."

"Just tell me, Ed!"

"No!"

"Please?"

"No."

"Edward, you're such a jerk."

"I'm not gonna say anything."

"You're more than a jerk! You're a jackass!"

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

"I'm gonna find out. You're too short to hide anything from me, Ed."

Winry expected the usual outburst. Instead, Edward stood up and towered over her. She blinked. Then she accepted his challenge and stood nose to nose with him—well, more like nose to _chin_.

"And what kind of advantage is your height now, woman?" he sneered.

"When the hell did you grow?"

"I've always been growing!"

"Huh."

Edward rolled his eyes and walked away. He was glad the change of topic was enough to distract Winry. He didn't appreciate the dazed look she wore while she wandered back to the house. Was it really that hard to believe he'd be taller one day?

"Whatever," he muttered. Edward pulled out the note to look at it one more time. He read the lazily written words again and scowled before shoving it into a different pocket.

"Squinty-eyed pervert."


	19. Blood

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

030: Blood

When the dusty wagon pulled up the lane this time, three people in military blues got off. Pinako thought she was dreaming. Then she remembered it was two people who came last time. And two people before that. In fact, the only time the military ever brought a number other than two was when a single lieutenant came to escort Urey and Sara to Ishval.

The largest one started walking up the lane while the other two pulled a large crate out of the wagon. His ruddy hair was kept in the standard military buzz cut, but a tad over-long at the top.

Pinako chewed on the tip of her pipe a little. Whatever these military men were bringing, it wasn't good news. It never was.

The red haired man stopped short of the stairs and saluted her.

"Good morning, ma'am," he called. "I have some materials to drop off for Alphonse Elric."

"Would you go away if I told you he wasn't interested?" Pinako scoffed.

He gave a smile. "No, ma'am."

"It was worth a shot."

"Yes, ma'am."

Pinako shuffled back into the house, leaving the military man at attention outside. She found Alphonse already coming downstairs.

"Someone's here for you, Al."

"Really, Auntie? Who?"

Pinako shrugged. Alphonse frowned a little, but then made his way through the kitchen and outside onto the porch.

"Yo, Alphonse."

"Second Lieutenant Breda! What are you doing here?" Alphonse hopped down the stairs and gave the lieutenant a hug. Breda spluttered, not expecting anything more than a handshake. The boy pulled back and grinned. "How is everyone in Central?"

"Everyone's doing well, although we're not in Central anymore," Breda replied. "After today, everyone will be stationed in East City again. I'm the last one to transfer."

"Wow! Does that mean Colonel Mustang got promoted?"

"Nothing official. He is going to be overseeing Eastern Command, though."

"That's great!" Alphonse looked around Breda and noticed the two privates carrying the large crate. "Is that what you're here for?"

Breda looked a little uncomfortable. "Yeah."

Alphonse furrowed his brow, and the silence stretched. The screen door slammed shut, causing both to jump. Edward was walking toward them.

"Hey, Breda."

"Hey, Chief."

"Is that what I think it is?" Edward pointed at the crate.

"Um, yeah."

"Why'd you bring it back here?"

"Well, it belongs to Alphonse, and the labs were done with it."

Edward scowled, and the realization of what was inside the crate finally hit Alphonse. The two privates set the crate down in front of him and stepped back. He stood stock still for a moment, staring at it. After a tense moment, he nodded to himself and clapped his hands. He placed them on the top of the crate and little miniature suits of armor formed where the nails were. He lifted the top.

Nestled in the packing straw was the helmet to the suit of armor that once housed his soul. Edward grimaced, but Alphonse's face remained stoic. Slowly, he put the top back down, covering the armor again. He looked at Breda and nodded. Then he turned around and walked back into the house. Edward and Breda watched him until the screen door slammed shut again.

Edward sighed and looked at Breda again. The lieutenant was unsettled.

"Thanks. You can tell Mustang we'll keep it safe," he said.

"Yeah, sure thing." He turned and motioned towards the two privates to follow him.

"Breda," Edward called after him. The man turned. "It's not your fault."

"I know," he replied. "It's not yours either, chief."

Edward gave a small, bitter smile. Breda returned it and waved over his shoulder as he left.


	20. Coffee

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

044: Coffee

As sudden as the warm weather was, the return of the cold weather was even more unexpected. It had been almost two weeks, and everyone in Resembool was finally getting accustomed to not wearing a jacket outside and had started opening their windows at night again.

Edward was reading a mystery novel out by the tree he, his brother and Winry carved their initials in when they were little. He was able to ignore the sudden bursts of cold wind, but it was the sleet that finally dragged him out of the book.

Winry heard the cursing through her open window. Looking out, she saw Edward trying to dodge the slush pelting down from the sky. She could already he was soaked and shivering. She rolled her eyes and went downstairs to start a pot of coffee for him.

He came sliding in to the kitchen as the coffee was percolating. Edward smelled the hot drink and started walking towards it. Winry chuckled.

"No way, Ed," she told him. "You need to go get some dry clothes on first. The coffee will be waiting for you then."

Edward scowled, shivered and dripped his way upstairs.

When he came back down, a mug of black coffee sat steaming on the table. Winry was seated across the table sipping on her own mug of creamy coffee. Edward plopped down and practically drowned himself in the cup. He gave a happy sigh and put his head on the table.

Winry laughed at him again.

"S'not funny."

"How did you not notice it getting cold? I shut the windows at least an hour ago," Winry replied.

Edward looked at her through the hair covering his face. Winry thought he looked like he got caught stealing one of Alphonse's sweets. He muttered something unintelligible into the table top.

"You gotta speak up, Ed."

He rolled his eyes and sat up, all petulance. "I was getting to the good part."

Winry raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "The good part? You were reading a dime novel."

"There was some serious ass kicking goin' on!"

Winry stared at him for a moment.

"You're so weird."

Edward grumbled and settled for slurping his coffee.


	21. Nut

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

080: Nut

It all started with a basket of pecans. One of Pinako's patients left them as thanks for a tune up. Winry waited almost a week before finally deciding to bake something with them.

She grabbed her favorite mixing bowl and filled it with some of the pecans and a bit of this and that. Winry popped them in the oven, and she grabbed a copy of _Mechanical Weekly_ for a bit of entertainment while she waited. After stirring them around a few times, she pulled the nuts out and set them on a counter to cool. Edward followed his nose in to the kitchen barely a minute after the roasted pecans were set down. He grabbed a pecan and popped it into his mouth.

He got exactly three munches in until the nerves in his tongue kicked in. He hastily gulped the rest of it down.

"Shit! That's hot!" Edward coughed.

"Well, yeah, Ed. I just took them out of the oven."

"Warn me next time, woman!"

Winry scowled. "Like you'd listen."

Edward ignored her and went back upstairs to examine the damage done to his tongue by the sugared pecan.

A few days and a phone call to Gracia Hughes later, Winry pulled out a pecan pie as Alphonse was passing. He doubled back, sniffing in the the sweet scent.

"Wow, Winry," he said. "That smells delicious."

Winry beamed. "It's a new recipe I got from Mrs. Gracia."

"Then it's sure to be good."

"I hope so. I mean, my pie crusts are never as good as hers, but I think this one's a little better than the last pie I made."

"Winry, your pies are the best."

Alphonse earned another bright smile from his friend. "Thanks, Al. You get the first piece when it's cool enough."

Edward entered the kitchen again. He smelled the pie and changed course towards it.

"Uh-uh, now way, Ed," Winry tried.

Edward ignored her warning and kept going towards the pie.

"Brother, you're drooling," Alphonse called.

Edward muttered something unintelligible and began to reach for the pie.

"Shrimp, it's _pecan_ pie," Pinako muttered as she passed in from the workshop.

Edward froze. Then he grimaced. He left as quickly as he came.

"That was weird," Winry murmured. Pinako smirked and took a drag of her pipe. Alphonse just laughed.


	22. Candy

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

050: Candy

As the weather got colder, Winry started picking up odd little habits to stay warm. Instead of simply zipping up her jumpsuit while working, she kept a stash of cinnamon candies in the pockets. She unwrapped the fiery sweet and let it dissolve slowly in one cheek. Somedays, while she went through the familiar motions of pulling off her gloves, unwrapping the candy, and popping in in her mouth, Winry wondered where she picked up the habit.

The first thing that always came was the feeling of a scratchy beard with spicy breath. Then she would remember the twinkling blue eyes and the cheerful smile of her father hiding under the false beard. Usually Winry would stop the memory there and savor it.

Occasionally, a little boy would drag her away from her father. He would growl and chase her, claiming he was a fire breathing dragon. She would shriek, calling for a knight to save her. Sometimes the knight was a wobbling toddler dragging his brother to find a lost toy; sometimes the knight was a black and white dog tackling the dragon to the ground and licking his face off. She always wound up giggling in a heap, smelling whiffs of cinnamon.

Winry smiled softly. She rolled the candy over to taste its spice again. Then she threw the wrapper away, pulled her gloves back on and got back to perfecting her craft.


	23. Pet

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

055: Pet

"Nnnnngh."

Alphonse rolled over in his bed and tried to glare at his brother for waking him. It turned into more of a bleary stare. Edward was curled up on his side. He let out another piteous groan, and flopped onto his back.

The younger brother yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It was early, but he was awake now. Alphonse dragged his quilt with him as he trundled out of the room. He toddled downstairs into the kitchen. Winry was already awake, waiting on the kettle to whistle. She was holding two empty hot water bottles that looked like rusty, dead fish in her hands.

"Ed laid up, too?" She yawned.

"Yup," Alphonse yawned back.

"Mm, we'll probably have a storm today then."

Alphonse cocked his head to the side. "It's never really bothered him too much that I've noticed."

"Den usually doesn't need the hot water bottle. Whatever's comin' must be a doozy."

A few minutes later, Winry wrapped the filled hot water bottles up and headed towards the stairs. She found Den hobbling into the boys' room and Edward with an arm thrown across his face. Winry set one of the bottles over his leg. Then she went to help her dog up on his bed. Edward peeked out from under his elbow.

"Come on, girl," Winry murmured. She hoisted the dog's fore legs up on the bed, and Den was able to hop up from there. Den curled up around the hot water bottle on Edward's leg. He flopped a hand down to scratch her ears.

"Mm, thanks, Win."

Winry smiled. "You're welcome. How's your shoulder?"

"Not too bad. It's mostly the leg."

She nodded. "Okay. There's another hot water bottle on the table if you need it. I'll go get you a cup of tea."

Edward started to smile and thank her again, but he stopped midway as a snore broke through.

"Nevermind, then," Winry scoffed. "I'll just go back to bed."

As she left, Alphonse was coming back upstairs, snuggled into his quilt. He already looked half asleep as he trundled back into his room. Winry laughed a little, and then set off back to her bed, hoping there was still a little warmth left in the blankets.

When Winry woke up later, the hills outside were covered in a slippery layer of ice.


	24. Contract

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

020: Contract

Winry shifted nervously, eying the phone hanging on the wall. The wooden chair creaked as she rocked it back on two legs. The calendar hung just over the phone. Most of the month was marked out, but one week away a date was circled in red. She glared at it quickly.

Alphonse entered the kitchen, a smile on his face and was just starting a "hello" when he noticed the pensive look on Winry's face. He paused. Crossing his arms, he looked at the phone, the calendar and back at Winry. She fidgeted. She was gnawing on her bottom lip. Alphonse looked back at the calendar. He saw the circled date, but there was no note telling him what its significance might be. With a puzzled expression, Alphonse slowly retreated from the room. He would go get his brother. He always knew how to disperse Winry's moods (usually by ending up in one of his own).

A few minutes later, Edward strolled into the room. Everything was exactly where Alphonse said. Lip: chewed. Eyes: crossed. Nose: wrinkled. Date: circled. Phone: silent. Winry didn't even glance up at him. He came up behind her chair and pushed it back on all four legs. Winry scowled and fixed her glare on him.

"It hurts when you hit the ground," he supplied.

Her eyes narrowed, but then she looked again at the calendar. Edward frowned. This was unusual. Winry would normally supply a scathing comeback about his height or lack of taste or tact when he did things like that. He would have to try harder.

He pulled up a chair directly in her field of vision and straddled it backwards. He rested his arms on the back and his chin on his arms. Edward stared at her. Winry was forced to glare back.

After a whole minute of silence, Alphonse cautiously peered in from the doorway. Both Winry and Edward were staring at each other, glassy-eyed and refusing to break contact.

"They're so weird," he breathed as he quietly shut the door again.

Edward could feel his eyes burning as minute two started. It hurt, but he wasn't about to back down now. Half a minute later, Winry developed a tic in her left eye.

Not ten seconds had passed before Pinako let out a few choice curse words and came storming up from the workroom.

Winry flinched and turned towards the noise, knowing whatever set her grandmother off was likely to put her in a foul mood. Edward jumped up, punching the air.

"Hah! I win!" He crowed. "Now tell me what the hell is up with you."

Winry scowled at him again, not appreciating the smug look on his face. Then Pinako stomped into the kitchen.

"Winry!" She growled. "Where's my extra pipe?"

"Um," Winry hopped off her chair and started looking in cabinets.

"Bean-boy!" Pinako continued. Edward spluttered back. "Make some coffee. And it better be strong enough to strip paint!"

He pulled a face at the woman.

"Don't give me that shit! I just broke my favorite pipe and am lacking the nicotine that smoothes my rough edges, boy!"

Edward's eyes widened. He quickly got over to the stove to start Pinako's coffee. He could only remember one time when the woman was without her tobacco (for merely an hour, too). It wasn't a pleasant memory.

Pinako glanced over at the calendar and swore again.

"Winry!" The girl jumped and turned around, clutching her grandmother's extra pipe.

"Yes, Granny?"

"Call your master and tell him when you're going back to Rush Valley. The date to renew your apprenticeship is almost here."

Edward looked at Winry. "So that's wha–"

"Shrimp!" Edward jumped as Pinako cut him off. "Is that coffee ready?"

He thrust a steaming mug of black coffee at her. She grabbed it and snatched the pipe out of Winry's hands. Pinako stomped back to the workroom, leaving the two bewildered teens in her wake.

**A/N:**

OMG PLOT! (Kinda.)


	25. Meteorites

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

007: Meteorites

Winry stood out on the balcony behind her room, watching the sky as it turned from ice blue to chilled peach to sugared plum. She was wrapped in a few blankets while she waited for Alphonse to come back with some hot chocolate. Tomorrow was the second day of the new year, and she would be boarding a train early in the morning to head back to Rush Valley. Winry squirmed a little. She saw the irony of her waiting for so long, only to leave the brothers waiting on her (maybe they would finally understand how hard it was to be that patient).

When she had finally called Garfiel to tell him she wouldn't be coming back, her grandmother rapped her head hard with her pipe. Then Pinako grabbed the phone and said Winry would be leaving Resembool on the second and should be in town by the fourth, if that worked with his schedule. Winry didn't even get a chance to argue.

Finally, Alphonse came back with the hot chocolate. He gave one to Winry and held the other with both hands.

"It sure is chilly tonight," he said.

"Mmm, that's why there's hot chocolate," Winry replied.

"Why did you want to come out here again?"

"The New Year's Meteor Shower should be happening soon. It usually starts around dusk."

"Oh! Didn't we stay out and watch that when we were kids?"

"Sometimes."

Edward came out on to the balcony, dragging a thick quilt. He snatched Alphonse's hot chocolate and threw the blanket over his brother. Alphonse scowled at him. Edward glared back.

"It's cold," was all Edward would supply.

Alphonse pulled a face, but then obliged his brother. He wrapped himself up in the quilt until only his hands and head were visible.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

"Can I have my mug back now?"

"Yeah."

Edward looked at the darkening sky. The moon was a sliver, hanging close to the horizon, and the first stars were starting to shine. He shrugged and went back inside. Alphonse grumbled a little about his over-freaking-protective brother, but Winry just smiled at him.

After a few more minutes, the sky was completely dark. Bit by bit, meteorites started flashing across the northern sky. The two friends 'oohed' and 'ahhed' where appropriate and enjoyed the other's company. Twenty minutes passed, and the shower seemed to be dwindling. Winry sighed.

"What's wrong, Winry?" Alphonse asked.

"I feel like a horrible person."

"Why? You're one of the nicest people I know!" His brows were furrowed, and he looked concerned for her.

"Well," Winry paused, chewing on her lip a little. "I feel like you guys just got here, and now here I am, gallivanting off back to Rush Valley. It seems so hypocritical!"

Alphonse chuckled, earning a glare from Winry.

"Winry, you're not 'gallivanting off,' you're finishing your apprenticeship."

"Still!" She huffed. "I should be here with you two."

"Look," Alphonse tried. "Brother and I want to see you fulfill your goals. And think of all the ways going back to Rush Valley will help you make Ed-proof automail. Just because he's not fighting homunculi all the time doesn't mean he won't find a way to break it."

"That's true," she sighed. "It doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm leaving you behind, though."

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "You know we're going to go visit Teacher soon, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Isn't she in... Dublith?"

"Yeah, so we'll be able to stop by and visit you on the way to and from. It'll be just like old times."

"Just like?"

"Well, mostly. Minus all the dangerous stuff."

Winry gave a small laugh. "I guess that'll help."

"Just don't stop going after your dreams because of us. We'll always be here, Winry, just keep going forward," he finished. Finally, Winry cracked a smile. When they looked up, one last meteor shot across the sky.

**A/N:**

A quarter of the way through, woohoo! I've been on a bit of a writing jag lately (as if you couldn't tell from the rabid updates), and I kinda like where the story is going (um, it found a plot! Whoa!). Also, I've had fun tucking in some new characters with familiar faces (so be on the lookout, not all of them blatantly introduce themselves). I appreciate all the feedback, so thank you very much!


	26. Fortune

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

063: Fortune

Winry slumped on a bench. She was waiting in East City for her next train. After that, only one more stop and finally, she would be in Rush Valley. Sometimes Winry wondered why she hadn't built a car to drive around in yet. After all, cars had cushioned seats. And there was no hopping from one car to the next to get to the final destination. Even better—she could control the speed.

That decided it. She was going to build a car. Didn't Edward and Alphonse say there was one in the Nedobeck pasture...? Maybe she could convince Mr. Garfiel to let her salvage that over the next three months instead of returning to work full-time in Rush Valley.

Not that she didn't want to go back to the bustling town filled to the brim with automail and all of its mechanical glories. She loved Rush Valley! Winry just thought that maybe this wasn't the best time for her to be working there. Why wouldn't Granny just let her work from home? All the supplies and equipment were in Resembool, and customers always came to the house.

Granted, they were all Granny's customers. None of her clients from Rush Valley had been able to make the trip east. And Tetsu definitely grew. He would probably be the first in for an adjustment. And Paninya most likely got a new upgrade from Mr. Dominic. Winry couldn't wait to ogle the new prototypes. Mr. Dominic made some of the best automail she'd ever seen. He was a real master.

Winry huffed and slumped further in her seat. She was thinking in circles which wasn't helping her mood. In an effort to stop her unwanted introspection, Winry sat up and started looking at her surroundings. The train station didn't have much to offer. The same glass skylights and arches in any big city station. A few statues here and there. Nothing special there.

A girl was sitting next to her, folding and refolding her hands in her lap. She had a scarf over her head, but Winry thought she could tell the girl came from closer to the Eastern Desert, judging by the dark complexion visible on her hands. The girl was dressed modestly, with a calf-length skirt, boots and long sleeves. She moved her head, and a thick braid of white hair came out from under the scarf. The girl started. Quickly, she tried to surreptitiously tuck the offending braid back under her scarf.

She accidently made eye contact with Winry while doing so. There was an awkward minute or two while Winry took in the girl's Ishvalan features. Her only experiences with the people were with their men, so Winry was rather interested in the girl. Her features were sharper and finer than Major Miles's, but her eyes held the same knowing glare as Scar's. This girl had seen death.

The Ishvalan gave Winry a sheepish smile. Winry smiled back.

"I'm waiting for my grandmother to come from Youswell," the girl said.

"I'm on my way to Rush Valley," Winry replied.

"We're headed to Reole. My brother's getting married to a woman there." The girl's shoulders had dropped, she seemed a little more at ease.

"Oh, that's so exciting! Congratulations!" Winry cooed appreciatively.

The girl beamed at Winry. "We are all very pleased with the match."

"Reole is such a nice place this time of year, too. It's the perfect weather; no bundling up to keep from freezing. Make sure you go visit Rose Thomas," Winry continued. "She's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. And she has some of the best bath salts this side of Xing."

"You are kind to offer such advice, I thank you."

"It's nothing. Meeting someone new and chatting is more entertaining than moping about the station."

"Can I repay your kindness, miss?"

"Um," Winry paused. "Sure?"

"May I see your hand? It does not matter which." Winry placed her left hand in the girl's right. The Ishvalan then placed her other hand on top. Her eyes closed, and she began humming to herself. The wayward braid fell out from under the scarf again. Then, the girl smiled. She released Winry's hand and opened her eyes. Winry was a bit confused.

"Er, what just happened?"

"I have a gift," the girl answered. "I can see inside a person's heart with these hands."

Winry stared at her. A fortune-teller? Maybe she hadn't been sleeping enough lately...

The girl smiled kindly and continued. "You are strong-willed and loyal. You are a fierce companion, but you show your steadfastness through sharp words as often as you do kind ones. There are two boys you love. Although you would die for both, only one is your brother. I can see much happiness in your future and many blessings. You only need to go forward on your own legs."

"Thanks, I think," Winry replied after another silent, awkward moment.

"And I thank you for the advice." Steam hissed, and gravel crunched as a train hefted its way across the platform. The girl looked up and grinned wider. "My grandmother's train is here. I hope you find your future, Miss Winry."

Winry watched the girl walk away. She paused as she greeted a old woman with an eye-patch, but eventually, she was lost to the crowded station. Winry shook her head to clear it. Now she had an entirely new circle of thoughts to ponder through. She slid back down the bench. _Great_.

Hardly a second later, she sprang upright.

"How did she know my name?"


	27. Mindblank

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

035: Mind-blank

For the first week, the house seemed abnormally quiet. All the normal sounds were there, but everything seemed much more subdued. Den still pit-patted about the house, Alphonse puttered around the kitchen, Pinako practiced smoke signals while machining cover plates, and Edward plopped down on the couch to read everyday. What he thought was missing was the her tinkering. Everyone else's daily activities didn't make much noise, so it seemed without the constant clatter of Winry's working whirlwind was what had left.

Edward didn't think he out-and-out _missed_ the noise. It was more like he forgot it. After all, when the band saw was on, it was _loud_, and it often distracted him from his book. Which was annoying. Edward hand-picked which books he wanted to read, and that meant he wanted to _read_, not try and concentrate on simple sentences with the sound of jackhammers in his skull. And that band saw made the _worst_ noise. His jaw ached for hours after he clenched it while hearing Winry use the piece of equipment one day.

Granted, he was running out of books that had nothing to do with mechanics or bionics. Automail was great, but he didn't need to know how it worked. That's what Winry was for. Toe stuck? Go get Winry so she can whack you with a wrench and fix the toe at the same time. Knee sticking? Go see Winry so she can smack you upside the head and wiggle the pinched wire back into position.

By the second week, he was used to the quiet. He didn't look up from his novel every seventeen minutes and wonder what noise wasn't bugging him. He didn't follow his nose into the kitchen in the mid-afternoon smelling something delicious. He didn't move from the couch except for meal times.

His book collection was getting dangerously thin without these distractions. At the end of the fourth week, Alphonse threw his hands up in frustration.

"That's it, brother, we're going to Dublith."

"What?" Edward blinked. "Why?"

"You are driving me insane!" Alphonse pinched his nose. "I don't know how Winry put up with this all the time."

"Winry? What's she got to do with you going crazy?"

Alphonse gave his brother a blank stare. Edward glared back, not appreciating the unspoken insult to his intelligence. He was a genius, thanks very much. And the _older_, slightly _taller_ brother. And Alphonse would do better to remember that, please and thank you.

"Ever since you ran out of dime novels–" (Edward squawked in indignation) "–you've been bugging me every five minutes. And you've been doing it for at least eight whole days."

Edward scowled. "I have not."

"Yes, brother, you have."

"Have not."

"Have too."

"Have not."

"Have too."

Both brothers were glaring at each other with an eerily similar growl behind their words.

"Have not."

"Have too."

"Have not."

"Hav—No. This is stopping."

"You're right. Let's spar, and then we'll see who's right." Edward wore an evil little smirk to match his glare. Alphonse heaved a sigh and returned it with a deadpan stare.

"No, brother. It's sleeting outside."

"What are you, a pansy?"

"I, for one, do not fancy a cold before sitting on a train for two and half days. Especially seeing as I can _feel_ those benches now."

Edward dropped the scowl and flopped into a chair. "Ugh. I'm so _bored_."

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "I know, brother. Now go get me that 'Cretan Creations' book, I wanna try a new recipe."

With the promise of food, Edward hopped up to go grab the book he had already read.


	28. Missing

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

038: Missing

Sparks were flying as she ground down a plate metal covering for a forearm. It was just a little too thick, and Winry wanted make sure it was weighted properly. An eighth of an inch extra would be enough to throw the balance of the whole arm off.

Sighing, she sat back and surveyed her work. Two completed legs stood on the far end of the table. Customers would be coming in the morning to pick them up. All in all, Winry thought she was readjusting to Rush Valley rather well. Not even a week had passed before every single one of her customers had come by to see her. This arm was the last one that needed to be completely rebuilt.

Winry yawned and stretched out a few kinks in her back. It was getting late. Or early. Either way, she was getting a little tired. She sighed again, and she returned to her work. Soon, the plate covered the wires and gears and bearings that made the synthetic nerves and muscles of the arm. A few screws, and it was all put together, just waiting to be used. Winry smiled. It was a good arm. It was lighter, more proportionally built and more sensitive to pressure. It definitely showed improvement from the arm it would be replacing.

Still, Winry wasn't happy with it. She was sure she could do better. She supposed that was why she was in Rush Valley.

But there was something missing in the work. For some reason unknown to her, she couldn't focus like she used to. Before, she could work almost twelve hours straight before anything could drag her away from working with automail. It was weird. Every few minutes she would look up and scowl. And then would feel silly because she had nothing to scowl at.

Winry chuckled and shook the thought out of her head. Working at home had started some bad habits.


	29. Money

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

059: Money

"Be there in a second," Winry called as she hurriedly wiped the grease of her hands while running to the front of the shop. "Welcome to Atelier Garfiel! I'm Winry Rockbell, what can I help you with?"

"Winry Rockbell? Excellent, exactly who I was looking for," a lanky teen said. He was leaning on the doorway with a hank of blond hair obscuring an eye. The only thing at odds with mysterious stranger persona was the sling holding up the stump of his left forearm. "I'm Russell Tringham, and I am in need of your services."

"Oh? How recent is your injury?" Winry said. She motioned for him to sit down so she could get a better look at his arm.

"It happened almost two months ago," he replied as he seated himself. Winry took the arm, and started unwrapping the bandages.

"This is a clean cut, was it amputated?"

"Not at first." Winry looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. He grinned at her. "I cut myself in the lab I work in, and then some of my research got into my bloodstream. It was a nasty infection."

"You work in a lab? What kind things do you work with?"

"I'm an alchemist. A man in Xenotime is sponsoring my brother and me to finish up some stuff the first guy he hired started. After that, we're interested in examining some new alchemic methods for farming and forestry."

Nodding to herself, Winry wrapped the stump back up. "Aren't you a little young to be working in a research lab already?"

Russell shrugged. "Maybe. Aren't you a little young to be a mechanic?" Winry grinned prettily. "And running your own atelier?"

"This isn't my shop. I'm Mr. Garfiel's apprentice."

"Oh," he sat back and smirked at her. "Everyone made it sound like a pretty mechanic ran this shop."

"Flattery won't get you very far, Mr. Tringham." Despite her words, a small blush graced her cheeks.

"But I can try, can't I? Call me Russell."

"Sure you can," she laughed and went to go get the appointment book. "Now, I can't start the whole outfitting process with you until tomorrow, does that sound alright?"

"That sounds great, Winry," he paused and tried to look abashed. "I can call you Winry, right?"

"Winry's fine. If you can come back at ten, we'll start with a casting, and then we'll go through the interview process."

"Interview?"

"In order to make the best limb for you, I have to know what you intend to use it for, what kind of performance you expect from it, and other things like that."

"I'm sure anything you can engineer will work perfectly."

Winry rolled her eyes.

"I appreciate the compliment, but there's a world of difference between what a State Alchemist would expect from a hand than what a research alchemist wants."

"That's a fair point. I have one more request to make. I left my brother in Xenotime, so I'd like everything to be done as quickly as possible."

"It's not the outfitting and engineering that takes time, Russell," Winry told him. "It's the rehabilitation. No mechanic wants to see a client push himself too far, too fast. You might want to ask your sponsor for at least six months off. And it might be a good idea to look at monthly rates for the hotels here."

"Winry," Russell's voice gained an edge. "I can't delay my research. I only have a month before my sponsor fires us, and my brother and I are too close to the finish line to stop."

Winry sighed. "Mr. Garfiel and I will be able to engineer a hand and perform the surgery well before the month is done. I just hope you're not left-handed, Russell, because you won't be able to properly use that hand for at least a year."

"Don't you fret for me, Winry," he replied, all charm again. "You'll be well compensated for the rush. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

Russell strolled out the door with a short backward glance at Winry. He was a lady-killer, and he had his sights set on her.

Winry sagged in her chair. "Oh boy, all I need now is Edw–"

"Hey, Winry!" Alphonse called as he pushed the door open. Edward wandered in right after him with a "yo."

Winry groaned. _Great_.


	30. Assistance

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

095: Assistance

Edward was thunking down the stairs when he heard it. A young man's voice floating through the entry to the front of the shop and Winry's laughter. The night before, she mentioned she had an appointment this morning, but she didn't mention that it was with some suave character. He opened the doorway a little more to get a look at what was going on.

Winry was busy applying copious amounts of petroleum jelly to right arm and hand of a good-looking, _tall_ teenager. He was speaking quietly, earning a soft laugh from Winry. The unknown boy's eyes followed Winry's hand and he held a smirk that was a little too lascivious for Edward's taste. His bangs kept flopping in front of an eye, and he would shake it back with a laugh.

Assessment: Winry was being swindled by a smarmy bastard.

Course of action: Disturb smarmy bastard's plans and keep him away from Winry as much as possible.

Edward set a determined scowl on his face and barged in to the front room. Winry was holding the young man's arm down in a vat of rubber. She looked over a shoulder at Edward and smiled at him. He gave a quick wave back. The stranger looked over Winry's head at him, a frown settling itself on his face.

"Russell, you need to relax the muscles in your shoulder," Winry told him.

"Right, sorry Winry," he turned back to her and grinned. "I should probably stop wiggling my fingers, too, right?"

Winry rolled her eyes. Russell laughed again. Edward scowled.

"Alright, let's get your arm out of here. It needs to set for thirty seconds and then put it back in, got that? Remember, keep the muscles relaxed, and no finger wiggling," she instructed as she began to wipe her hands on her apron.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Winry turned fully to Edward and gave him another smile. "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Edward grunted an affirmative, keeping an eye on Russell.

"I'm just glad you've been here more than twelve hours without destroying Main Street."

He swiveled his eyes to Winry. "Well, I don't have some Xingese prince abusing my good will and sending his goons after me, now do I?"

"I suppose not," she shrugged. "Anyway, Al's out getting some groceries for dinner, but there should be oatmeal for breakfast. I'd fry something up for everyone, but Russell is almost half-way through his preliminary outfitting appointment right now."

"Mm," Edward knew she was trying to get him to leave the room before he did something she deigned as stupid. "Are you sure you don't need any help with the pretty boy?"

"Edward," she hissed, throwing her hands on her hips. "He's an amputee and a paying customer, not dirt on your shoe. Treat him nicely."

"An amputee?" He scoffed. "Come on, Win. What'd he do, get gangrene in a paper cut?"

"Close, but no cigar," Russell called over. Edward glared at him. Russell maintained a face of haughty amusement. "I cut my hand while preparing some slides and a toxin got in my blood stream. I had no choice but to lop off my hand otherwise I'd be a goner if the toxin reached my major organs."

"No toxin is that fast acting," Edward huffed, crossing his arms.

"It's an alchemy thing."

Winry placed a hand on Edward's arms to try and stop him. He let out a mirthless laugh.

"Right. Listen here, floppy hair, I've known a few alchemists in my day," he spat out drily. "If you managed to cut yourself prepping _slides_, then you aren't worth your salt."

Russell's face twisted angrily. If his arm wasn't in a vat of rubber, he would be stomping over to Edward in a show of machismo. "I'll have you know that my brother and I are both younger than the Fullmetal Alchemist and we're in charge of our very own research project in Xenotime _without_ being dogs of the military."

"Big deal, you're younger than me. All that means is your some dumbass who thinks he knows everything! Don't try and make your age a selling point! All that means is you haven't had the chance to live. Experience has to be earned!"

Winry watched the two ruffling the other's feathers. She leaned wearily against the work bench. It was too early for this to be happening already.

"You don't und—Wait, older than _you_?" Russell asked, ire shifting to confusion. "What do you have to do with anything? You're just some prick with no future stuck in the boondocks."

"Hi, I'm Edward Elric, formerly the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People and military dog."

For a moment, Russell looked genuinely lost. Winry took advantage of the respite and pulled Russell's arm out of the rubber. She put some newspapers beside his chair so the excess could drip off. She kept a hand on his shoulder and glared at the clock, waiting for the next three minutes to pass.

"You?" Russell finally spluttered. "But you're so–"

"If you say short, I'll pound your ass in the pavement, pretty boy."

Russell laughed harshly. "As if you could reach anything worth pounding!"

"That's it, you're having a knuckle sandwich for breakfast!" Edward stomped over to taller boy. Winry stopped him by poking a finger into his chest. He moved his glare to her.

"No way. There will be know ass poundings or knuckle sandwiches under my watch, boys," she said. "Russell, Edward is a good friend from my hometown, so if you two fight, you'll have to get your automail elsewhere. Ed, Russell is _my client_, and I do not require any more of your 'help' in here today. Please take your stubborn self elsewhere."

Russell smirked and shot a smug look over her head at Edward. Winry turned her glare sharply back at him. "As for _both _of you, you won't say anything _at all_ if you can't say anything _nice_. If I hear about any fights, I'll personally make sure you rue the day you walked into Atelier Garfiel."

**A/N:** I'm glad to see Russell so well-received. Never fear, he'll feature in a few more of these. On a completely unrelated note: HARRY POTTER OPENS TOMORROW NIGHT (I'm a wee bit excited, haha).


	31. Cleaner

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

012: Cleaner

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. This is dumb. Stupid. Stupid. And totally unfair. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. It wasn't even my fault!"

"Edward, stop grumbling," Winry called from the workroom.

"I'm not grumbling!" He yelled back.

Winry scowled at him through her goggles from the doorway. "There's no need to yell, I'm in the next room."

Edward turned around and made a face at her. "You look like an alien, Win."

"Get back to work!" She snapped, throwing her hands up. "And don't forget you're in charge of dinner tonight!"

Edward groaned and turned back to scrubbing the baseboards in the front room. He grimaced more when he heard a low chuckle from the back room. However, when the chuckle turned into a yelp of pain, his frown softened a little.

"You're in trouble, too, Russell!" Winry snapped. Well, at least he wasn't the only one in the dog house.

Sighing, he sat up and surveyed the room. Everything looked sparkling. A job (grudgingly) well done. The automail display gleamed from a fresh polishing, the floors were swept and mopped, and now the baseboards were free of any lingering dust and grease. All that was left was the ceiling fan and beating out the rug by the couch.

Alphonse came into the room later to find his brother teetering on the edge of a chair while trying to dust the ceiling fan. Edward was cursing and muttering and being rather belligerent with the innocent fan. Alphonse sighed. Edward looked over his shoulder at him.

"Have you come to lecture me, too, little brother?"

"No, I think Winry's got that covered," Alphonse replied, too happily for Edward's tastes.

"Do you wanna give me a hand then?"

"Not particularly."

Edward grumbled something that sounded suspiciously mean-spirited. Alphonse rolled his eyes.

"Brother, if I helped you, you wouldn't learn your lesson."

"Lesson? What lesson? I already know that Tringham kid's an asshole!"

"Not that one," Alphonse deadpanned. "The 'talk first, then punch' one."

"Tch," Edward scoffed. "That's dumb."

"Brother."

"It is! If I let an asshole speak before I punch him, I'm more likely to put him in a coma rather than just giving him a shiner!"

Alphonse didn't look convinced.

"Besides, he started it!"

"Oh, really?" Alphonse remained skeptical.

"Yeah, really!" Edward jumped off the chair to grab a clean cloth.

"I find that a little hard to believe, brother."

"He did!"

"Russell Tringham just got his port installed. How could a bedridden, feverish _boy_ start a fight?"

Edward scowled at his brother. Alphonse's eyes widened.

"He didn't."

"He did."

"Brother!"

"He's a freakishly tall asshole, what'd you expect, Alphonse?"

"Too much, apparently," Alphonse sighed. "I'll help you with dinner tonight."

Edward grinned at his brother. "Thanks, Al!"


	32. Kiss

013: Kiss

"Alright, now make a fist."

Russell's automail hand twitched. Winry scribbled something on her notepad.

"Point at me."

The index finger straightened a little.

"This is never going to work," Russell groaned. "I look like some pirate with a hook for a hand."

"Actually, the amount of control you have after only two weeks is fantastic. Most people can't twitch on command until the third week." Winry gave him an encouraging grin.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

"Only when it's cloudy," she smiled wider. "But I won't hesitate to hit you upside the head if you need it."

Russell chuckled. "I know, I've got the bump to prove that."

"You deserved it," she replied pitilessly. "I warned you both what would happen if you two got into a fight."

"I suppose."

Winry leaned over his hand, adjusting a few wires. Russell moved in closer, watching her work. Winry frowned as his head blocked out some of the light. She looked up to tell him to move, but she froze when her nose touched his. He smiled.

"Winry," he breathed.

Her eyes widened. She swallowed nervously. This wasn't right. _He_ wasn't right. This was _not_ what she'd imagined. She should move. For some reason she couldn't convince her neck muscles to move her head. Russell was inching closer. She was frozen. This would be a really convenient time for Edward to walk in, please. Really, _any_ second would be great. She could feel tears burning in the corners of her eyes. This was _wrong_. He was squashing her nose! Not to mention all the other things he was doing wrong! Especially the bit about him _not being Ed_.

Her leg twitched, causing her rolling stool to push away from Russell. She let out a shaky breath and looked down.

"Russell," she started, glancing back up at him. "I think you're ready to go back to Xenotime."

"And I was just getting used to the dust," he replied, as if he hadn't just invaded her personal space.

"You'll need to come back in six months so Mr. Garfiel can assess your rehabilitation."

"Garfiel? Why not you?"

"Mr. Garfiel is better suited to be your long-term mechanic."

"What if I don't want him?"

"Then you need to find another mechanic!" Winry finally dropped her professional demeanor and glared at him. "Pack your bags, Mr. Tringham."

**A/N: **I liiiiiiiive! :D


	33. Word

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

090: Word

Winry had been stomping around the automail shop since mid-morning. The only good thing about the day Edward had noticed was Russell Tringham's empty bed and missing bags. He would be skipping for joy if he didn't think Winry would bean him with a wrench for being too happy. Normally, her moods didn't last this long. Edward finally decided something needed to be done when he caught Winry glowering at a half-finished leg.

He would have to approach this delicately. If automail wasn't cheering her up, then Edward would also need a little creativity. One of these he had in spades, but he was always told he was rather blunt. What he really needed was Alphonse. But he was out with Paninya, running errands for Garfiel.

Wait, maybe he could just ask Garfiel! He was practically a woman anyway!

"Edward!" Garfiel called from the kitchen. The teen jumped, a little spooked and pondering the possibility that maybe the older man could read minds. Garfiel's head poked out of the doorway. "Come here, honey, I need your help with something!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Edward rubbed his forehead, holding back a less-than-polite rebuttal about how he was _not_ Garfiel's "honey," in any sense of the word.

Garfiel handed him a glass of iced tea and pointed at a chair. Edward took the hint and sat down.

"We need to find a way to get Winry-dear out of her funk."

"Normally she calms down by now. I've pissed her off enough to know."

"I think that Russell Tringham did something to set her off. He was real sweet on her, but what could he have done to upset her so much?"

Edward could think of a good many things that Russell Tringham could do. He bristled at the thought of someone trying to get frisky with his mechanic. Yes, he's had a few less-than-gentlemanly thoughts about Winry, but he wasn't enough of an ass to act on those. And he didn't fancy the concussion that would follow.

Another strike against the pretty boy.

"Maybe another pair of earrings would cheer her up. She didn't have any of them when she came back."

"No, definitely not earrings. She'll poke more holes in her ears!" Edward said, tuning back into the conversation. Then he felt something small and hoop shaped in his pockets. "Oh! Of course! Great idea, Garfiel!"

Garfiel blinked as Edward bounded out of the kitchen. "Um, sure, honey...?"

Edward raced into the workroom. Winry was still fuming at the metal limb in front of her; it didn't look like she had made any progress with it.

"Winry!"

"What?" She snapped. She was glaring at Edward like she hoped he would burst into flames. He just ignored the scowl and grinned at her.

"Gimme your hand."

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you find a toad?"

"Nah, but I'll look later if you want me to," he replied impishly. Winry rolled her eyes and stuck out a hand. "Close your eyes, too."

"Ed, just give me whatever your hiding."

"No, if you look it'll ruin the surprise!"

Winry groaned and shut her eyes. Edward dropped four hoops and one pair of studs in her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, it doesn't feel like anything slimy," she started cautiously.

"Come on, Win, I'm not five anymore."

"You sure?"

Edward tutted, so she decided it was safe to open her eyes. She drew in a sharp breath.

"Well?" Edward asked with a smug smile.

"Why the hell did you wait so long to give these back to me?" She popped his bubble. "I thought you lost them and were too embarrassed to tell me."

"You told me to keep them safe! I wouldn't lose something like that!"

"Well, better late then never, I guess," she sighed as she fiddled with them to put them back in her ears. "Thanks, Ed."

**A/N: **Sorry about the double update. I forgot the disclaimer. And the Matrix is very distracting.


	34. Study

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

085: Study

Alphonse looked over at his brother. Edward sat at the kitchen table, flipping the pages of a recipe book loudly. An occasional mutter slipped out of his mouth, but all Alphonse could catch was something about someone who could have been grateful and that someone could at least stop stomping around.

Alphonse was a sharp kid—he noticed the return of Winry's earrings and the slightly softer stomps of her traipsing about the workshop. He also noticed the increased muttering and generally foul mood his brother was in. Obviously, these two were connected.

Personally, he thought Edward could use a swift kick in the ass to get out of this funk. And although Alphonse was more than able to provide it, he thought it would be best delivered by their former alchemy teacher. She wouldn't put up with all this sulking.

"Brother?"

Edward looked up, mouth askew mid-mutter.

"I think we should head off to Dublith soon."

Edward shrugged. Alphonse made out a vague semblance of "whatever."

"Really, brother."

Another shrug, nodding head, and gruff muttering.

"'Soon' as in tomorrow."

This time his eyes rolled.

"Okay, I'm gonna go tell Winry now."

Edward scowled and turned back to the recipe book.

"Oh, and brother?" Alphonse paused in the doorway. "Get off your ass and stop moping."

He received a twisted grimace.

"You keep that face on any longer and it'll stick that way."

Edward's tongue poked out.

"No, really. Teacher will make it stick."

This time the scowl smoothed out. If there was one person that could strike fear in Edward Elric's heart, it was Izumi Curtis. Especially if she was freezing his facial nerves. He wasn't sure if she could, but he wouldn't put it past her.

Alphonse grinned and left the room.


	35. Fitness

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

026: Fitness

Edward wiped the dirt out of his eye while he waited for the best time to re-enter the fray. Alphonse was somehow still standing after five whole minutes of Izumi Curtis's traditional welcome. A well-placed kick sent the younger boy sprawling toward Edward. He vaulted over him and started his own counter-attack against his former teacher.

"Just because you can destroy a homunculus doesn't mean you can beat me, Ed," she growled. He ducked under her leg and tried to pull her foot out from under her. As usual, she danced just out of his reach. Edward grunted as her fist found a home on his shoulder.

He growled and tried to kick her with his automail foot. She grinned as she grabbed the foot and spun him around like a ballerina. Edward blanched as he heard the telltale _ping!_ of some important component of his leg hitting the gutter. Knowing his luck, it was probably some small piece he wouldn't recognize even if he saw it, so there was no way Alphonse could patch it up with alchemy (assuming Edward could even convince his little brother to try).

Dust swirled around him as he slid back towards the front gate. Alphonse was still waiting for another chance at Izumi. She stood over the both of them, laughing.

"What idiot apprentices I had!" She boomed. "It's been more than a year since I've released you from my tutelage and still you cannot best me! Looks like you two need to get back into shape!"

Izumi grinned, and her gruff demeanor melted. She pulled both boys into a bone crushing hug.

"Welcome back, you two."


	36. Melting Chocolate

Don't own it!

053: Melting chocolate

Alphonse savored a piece of the chocolate the Curtises gave him that morning. As Sig said, it's not everyday someone turns sixteen.

It wasn't a nickel bar, either; it was quality chocolate from the west. It was silky and bitter and sweet and absolutely delicious. And for once, Edward wasn't trying to steal his snack. Alphonse had received the gift at breakfast, and then he was promptly shooed from the room. He hadn't seen Edward since, actually.

Alphonse swished the melting square into his cheek.

He was getting somewhat concerned about his brother. It had been a good three hours since breakfast. Normally Edward could be found sneaking a mid-morning snack by now.

The phone rang shrilly, causing Alphonse to jump and almost choke on the chocolate.

The kitchen door opened, and the mystery of Edward's whereabouts was solved.

"Hey, Alphonse!" He called.

"Hmm?"

"It's Winry."

"She's calling for me?"

"No, I'm just bothering you for the hell of it," Edward replied with a little huff. "Yes she's calling for you!"

"Why?"

"Al!" Edward threw his hands up. Little puffs of flour puffed off his fingers. Alphonse thought he spotted the edge of a frilly apron peeking out around the door. "In case you've forgotten, little brother, today happens to be your birthday. She's calling to congratulate you for joining the big boys' club."

"Thanks, brother," Alphonse said dryly. "You know me, always forgetting the important things."

Edward rolled his eyes and thrust the phone receiver at him. Alphonse could hear Winry's tinny laughter. He swallowed the half-melted chocolate in his mouth and grabbed the phone.

"Hey, Winry!"

"Happy birthday, Al!" She was still laughing. "Welcome to the big boys' club."

"Oh, wow, thanks. I've only been sixteen for a few hours, but it's everything I dreamed it would be."

"Har har. Is your brother gone yet?"

"Yeah, he shut me out of the kitchen. He's probably listening at the doorway."

Alphonse heard a growl and a few deep chuckles.

"Edward? In the kitchen?"

"I know. I'm mildly terrified of what he's doing in there."

The growl turned into irritated yelling. Alphonse could make out a few of the words. Winry started laughing again.

"What was that, Al?"

"I think that was brother. All I could hear was something about this being the last time he tries to surprise me."

"What a weirdo."

"You're not related to him."


	37. Pierce

Disclaimer: Don't own it! Warning: Some strong, capslocky language.

025: Pierce

Winry frowned at the little piece of metal in her hand. With a soft growl, she glared at her ear lobe in the mirror.

Of the earrings that had already found their home in her ears, it was one of the posts that refused to go back in. It seemed it took about a year for that one hole to close up. Winry had asked Garfiel for help re-piercing it, but he just handed her a blow torch and skipped off.

"Winry, I got the apple!" Paninya called as she hopped up the stairs toward the bathroom. "Why do you need this thing again?"

Winry took the proffered fruit. "Aw, I need it cut in half."

Paninya held up a switch blade. Winry raised an eyebrow, and the other girl just grinned innocently. With an eye roll, Winry grabbed the knife and cut the apple in quarters.

"Now tell me, why do you need the apple? How does that help you poke a hole in your ear?" Paninya asked again.

"Granny used one when she did these the first time. I think it gives something for the needle to push into besides my thumb."

Paninya stuck her tongue out at the image. "Gross."

"Well you don't have to stay and watch if you don't want to."

"Nah, someone needs to drag your body downstairs for a blood transfusion."

"I won't need a blood transfusion. There aren't any blood vessels that big in your ear."

"Well, you know, just in case."

Winry chuckled. She grabbed the blow torch and used it to heat up the needle she was holding in some tongs. Paninya oohed.

"Whatcha doin' that for?"

"Kills the germs. And it'll help to cauterize the wound."

Shutting off the flame, Winry grabbed the cool end of the needle and readied the apple. Scowling in the mirror, she lined up the needle.

"Shit."

Paninya tumbled backwards into the bathtub she had been sitting on. "OH GOD, WHAT?"

"I forgot to numb my ear," Winry sighed.

"Oh. Is that important?" Paninya replied as she resumed her perch.

"Mm, yeah. This is gonna hurt. Cartilage always hurts the worst."

"You're still gonna do it?" Paninya screeched as she almost fell backwards again. Winry gave her a sideways look.

"Yeah. I'm tired of waiting!"

Paninya blanched.

Winry drew in a steadying breath and lined up the needle again. Another lungful of air. She pursed her lips. Then she pushed the needle through.

"AARGH! SHIT! OWW! SHIT! SHIT! FUCK! GAH! DAMMIT! "

Winry bit her lip and danced back in forth, wincing in pain. Paninya fell into the tub again.

"WHERE THE HELL IS THE STUD?"

She groped around on the counter. Feeling a round piece of metal biting into her thumb, she grabbed the errant earring. Winry groaned as she pulled out the needle. Quickly, she shoved the stud through the fresh hole and snapped the clasp on the back.

"Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick," Paninya moaned from the bottom of the tub.

"You? The needle didn't get anywhere _near_ you and _you're_ gonna be sick? You're such a wuss, Paninya," Winry scoffed. She leaned against the wall behind her and slid down to the floor. "What is it with automail users and needles?"

Paninya just groaned.


	38. Punishment

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

033: Punishment

"This is what happens when you cover my entire kitchen in flour, Edward."

The teenager scowled. "I still don't understand why you don't have a proper mop!"

"Mops just swill dirty water around. That's not clean enough for this housewife!"

Edward rolled his eyes and glared at the dripping, coarse floor brush he held in his hands. Izumi was putting him through the wringer after making a small mess while trying to bake Alphonse a birthday cake. She was totally overreacting. Most of the flour got on his clothes, not the floor! Grimacing, he started pushing the handleless brush across the wooden floor. Dipping the brush back in a bucket of water, a white blob dispersed from brush.

"Shit. I hate it when she's right."

He continued his grumbling while dipping the brush into yet another bucket with soapy water. Slowly, he continued his trek across the kitchen floor, scrubbing everything clean once more.

"Don't forget, there are other things I need you to do," Izumi called from another room.

"I didn't forget! I know you want to beat my ass after breaking my back."

"Well, if your form wasn't so sloppy, maybe you'd stand a chance."


	39. Ice

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

070: Ice

The best thing about a butcher shop, Edward decided one afternoon, was the easy access to ice at any given time. There was a whole room of it. Granted, there were a few pigs and cows hanging from the rafters, which could be a bit creepy. But overall, the feeling of something frozen on a split lip or a black eye or a swollen nose or a cuffed ear almost made the pain worth it.

He was sitting on a stool, face planted on a block of ice in the freezer room. He was hoping to avoid having his lip swell too much after getting clocked by Izumi during the morning's sparring match. Alphonse had his own stool pulled up to another side of the ice block trying to stave off a black eye. They sighed in unison as the cold numbed their injuries.

"Ah own't ammumba Eacha bee–"

"Brother, peel your lip off the ice."

"Ow, shit. That hurt."

"You should probably go get a towel to keep from sticking to it again."

"Tch, doesn't feel as good with the towel."

"Mm, true. What were you trying to say?"

"I don't remember Teacher being this bad before."

Alphonse stared at Edward with his good eye. "You're kidding, right?"

Edward blinked and thought to himself.

He shuddered.

"Nevermind. Must have suppressed the memories."

Alphonse chuckled, and Edward leaned back down to kiss the ice.


	40. Bandaid

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

004: Band-aid

"Ed, quit stomping around my house. And put the food back."

Edward looked up from the handful of jerky he had just snatched from the kitchen. He grumbled and plodded back.

Izumi's eyes narrowed. Alphonse had told her Edward was being especially surly towards everyone. He figured his brother needed the bad attitude beat out of him like dirt in a rug. Keeping that in mind, Izumi had made sure both boys were up well before dawn and being kept busy.

She herself noted that although Edward's temperament was getting back to where it should be, he still seemed like something was missing. When he didn't have work to do, he would help Sig and Mason in the shop, or he would devour any book that happened to be lying around (she even caught him with a raunchy romance novel she kept hidden in her desk drawer the other day). Izumi thought he was wandering around like a lost person.

At first, she assumed he didn't have a goal to reach, so he was floundering. But after a week was over, she saw the way he looked at something Alphonse had made with alchemy. For a few seconds his eyes drifted off to somewhere far away and his features fell slack.

Everything fell into place.

For years, Edward's life had revolved around alchemy, and now he couldn't even fix a ripped shirt, let alone create something with it. Of course he would act a little off without it.

Edward came tromping out of the kitchen with only one piece of jerky this time. Izumi thought about telling him off, but it was already hanging out of his mouth. Still, she motioned him over to the couch she was sitting on. He walked over and sprawled next to her. Izumi glared at him, and he quickly straightened his posture.

"What's wrong with your foot?"

"Nothin'," he replied, rolling his right ankle.

"No, you imbecile, the other one."

Edward frowned. He rolled it, but it gave a strange cranking sound.

"I'm not entirely sure. I think one of the bearings is out of place, but automail may as well be Aerugean to me."

Izumi noted his lack of interest in mechanics. "You should probably get that fixed."

"I should, but Winry's been in a funk lately," he scowled. Another reaction noted by Izumi. "If I go back now, she'd kill me."

Izumi scoffed. "Kill you? I'd consider myself a failure as a teacher if an apprentice of mine was killed by his mechanic."

"You've obviously never pissed off a Rockbell."

His expression gained that distant look again, but this time his jaw was clenched. Like always, his face relaxed quickly. Then he began to chatter away about the times he had been concussed or been given a black eye by his mechanic.

Izumi recalled Alphonse telling her about Edward having a crush on their childhood friend. Alphonse was also quick to say that Edward would deny any such feelings if asked directly. Perhaps if she sent Edward back to Rush Valley without Alphonse. If she could get this emotionally repressed distraction taken care of, perhaps she could help her student find a new path through life. This wasn't a permanent fix, but maybe it could hold Edward over until they could find one.

She came out of her reverie, and Edward was still talking. He didn't even notice Izumi's mind wandering. The smile on his face was enough to solidify Izumi's plan.


	41. Individual Lesson

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

047: Individual Lesson

Edward sprawled across the wooden bench in the train car. His cheek was pressed to the window, and the rest of him was an absurd pile of limbs. He blearily looked around the nearly vacant car.

He wasn't entirely sure why his former alchemy teacher shoved him on the first train to Rush Valley that morning. He knew Izumi knew about the kinks in his automail, but her usual response to injuries was to bark "walk it off" and throw the first aid kit at him. He sighed and fogged up the window.

Train rides were _boring_.

Edward looked at the condensation on the window. He started doodling on the window. He blinked and looked at what he just drew. It was a basic transmutation circle, designed to turn the glass into sand. How useless. Edward huffed and the window fogged up again.

It wasn't like he resented not being able to do alchemy. He just missed it. Edward could barely remember a time when he didn't have that particular science in his life. For a while, helping Alphonse become reacquainted with his body was enough to let him forget. However, being back in Dublith, back in the same butcher shop where he learned alchemy, added salt into a long forgotten wound. He thought he hid it better, but perhaps his teacher saw through his half-assed smiles.

He turned away from the glass and slumped further down the window. The metal sash holding the window dug uncomfortably into the nape of his neck. He glowered at his twiddling thumbs.

For a few minutes, he entertained the thought of grabbing a book from his ratty suitcase. He quickly shot it down. There had to be something else to do with his time besides reading. Edward was pretty sure he had read through all of the good books that had ever been published because the crap he found lately was nauseating.

Edward grumbled. He slid further down the wall, finally landing on the arm of the bench (which was no more comfortable or padded than the seat). He couldn't be a useless bag of bones the rest of his life. But what career could a former State Alchemist pursue without alchemy? He scowled deeper.

Finally, after almost half an hour of silent cursing, the stop for Rush Valley was announced. With a groan, Edward sat up, brushed his clothes off and straightened his hair. The train slowed. When it stopped, he left the train, and ran for cover from the springtime storm.

**A/N: **What's this? An update with _no dialogue_? Check your local pigs, they may have sprouted some wings!


	42. Tactician

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

42 - 043: Tactician

Garfiel peered around the corner into the work room where Winry was busy repairing Edward's foot. Aside from the goose egg on the boy's skull, both seemed rather content.

Paninya caught sight of Garfiel peeking through the doorway. Grinning, she hopped off the work room counter to share the beginnings her latest plot with him. The two giggled their way into the kitchen. He went to the icebox to grab some sweet tea, and she went to the plate of cookies on the small table.

"So, I've been thinking," Paninya starts out.

"Mmhmm, that could be dangerous, dear," Garfiel replied, taking a sip of his tea.

"It's Winry's birthday tomorrow–"

"My sweet apprentice is almost all grown up!"

"–and we both know there's enough sexual tension between her and Ed to fill a swimming pool with–"

"Too true."

"–so what if we set up some sort of date for the two?"

"Mmm, we'd have to be subtle. They're both clever, but then again the poor dears wouldn't know romance without a shove in the right direction."

"Exactly," Paninya grinned widely and leaned her chair back to put her feet on the table. "I'm good at being sneaky, but I need help with the other stuff."

After a momentary scowl at the girl's boots on his clean table, Garfiel nodded.

"So," she continued. "I _was_ gonna take Winry bar hopping."

"Which isn't exactly conducive to what we're trying to do."

"Right. So, got any ideas?"

Garfiel looked at Paninya through his curled eyelashes. His eyes were full of mischief.

"Maybe a few..."


	43. Bar

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

058: Bar

"Hey, Ed! Ed! Edo-eddie-edward!" Winry waved a hand in front of Edward's glassy-eyed stare.

"Don't call me that! I haven't been called 'Eddie' since... ever," he grumbled back, a little cross-eyed. Winry giggled and bounced up and down (which was more than a little distracting, especially with her dress slipping off her shoulder constantly). It was the third bar of the night, and it was safe to say they were both drunker than a couple of skunks. The music was loud, the crowd raucous and the party wild.

"Guess what Ed! Eddie, guess!"

"What?"

She paused (for dramatic effect). "I'm older than you!"

He managed a "duh" before another bar patron came by to hand Winry another glass. This one had a lime green paper umbrella. The burly man with an automail arm grinned at her.

"The birthday special!" He said loudly. "Guaranteed to get you shit-faced in one glass."

Winry giggled some more. She happily thanked the man with a sloppy hug while trying to guzzle the new drink down. After the man left, she teetered over to the stool next to Edward. Paninya swooped by quickly and made another tally mark on Winry's forearm with a permanent marker. Winry giggled again. The strap of her dress slipped off her shoulder again.

"You shouldn't write on your skin," Edward mumbled into his hair.

"How else am I supposed to remember how much I drank tonight?" Winry replied, still bubbling with laughter. "It's not like I'm gonna be able to keep track of a notepad! Paninya's got this covered, no worries, Ed!"

"Whatever."

"Come dance with me, grumpy pants," she wheedled Edward. "It's my birthday, and I want you to dance with me!"

Despite his mumbled responses to the negative, he let Winry drag him over near the band playing. It wasn't long before Winry got lost in the center of the crowd while Edward stayed near the edge. When he finally found her head bobbing around in the thick of it, he saw something that didn't quite agree with him. A dark-haired man was dancing with Winry. Or more accurately, dry-humping Winry. She hadn't realized it yet.

Suddenly, his gloomy drunken demeanor disappeared. Now he was pissed. P-I-double-S-E-D, _pissed_.

Winry's face furrowed as she noticed what was going on. She tried to push away from the man, but he just laughed and stepped closer to her. By this time, Edward had wormed his way through the crowd to stand next to them.

"Hey, jackass!" He called to this dark-haired stranger.

"Want a turn?" The man yelled back.

"She doesn't like you rubbin' your dick on her. Back the hell off!"

"What?"

"Go jack off in private, dip shit!"

The man cackled. "No way, this bird's too good to leave!"

That was the precise moment when all hell broke loose.


	44. Youth

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

015: Youth

Paninya whistled loudly as she strolled between the two bathrooms in Garfiel Atelier.

Winry was curled miserably around the toilet upstairs and Edward had hunkered down in the one near the recovery rooms. Edward was cursing chemistry for its cruel reactions between alcohol and the human body, but Winry placed the blame squarely on Paninya. The last time she had whistled in to check on her friend, Winry had thrown a bar of soap (and a few choice words) at her.

Garfiel stopped her at the bottom of the stairs.

"How are the poor dears doing?"

"Absolutely miserable," Paninya replied brightly.

"A shame our plan didn't work out as well as we thought," he sighed.

"Oh, I don't know," she grinned back. "They both seemed to be enjoying themselves while they were beating the tar of some guy at the last bar."

"Today's youth is so violent, what am I to do?" Garfiel released another long-suffering sigh. Then he skewered Paninya with a look. "I guess that explains the black eye on Edward-honey, and cut knuckles on Winry-dear."

Paninya laughed loudly. "Yup!"


	45. Smile

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

068: Smile

He grinned to himself after Paninya pranced from the room. Edward was lying spread-eagle on the floor of a bathroom, face pressed to the cool tile. Every time he sat up for a dry heave into the toilet, his left eye throbbed painfully. Automail fingers really could do some damage; he was just glad the pervert from the night before hadn't broken his nose.

Thinking back on it, that was the most fun he'd had in some time. It had been almost ten years since he and Winry had tag-teamed for a beat down.

True, she hadn't sobered up as much as he had, but she was grinning from ear to ear as the bartender dragged all three of them outside into the perpetual rainstorm that was springtime in Rush Valley. The asshole was running away before his feet reached the pavement. Then the barman yelled something about kicking Edward's ass should he see the boy in town anytime in the next month before stomping back inside.

Both the teens whooped and laughed in victory. He high-fived her, and she roped him into a hug, quickly reaching up to kiss the corner of his jaw. He blinked and looked down at her.

"Well, Ed," Winry smiled, unembarrassed and cheeks still rosy from the alcohol. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time!"

That was when Paninya finally got out of the bar and decided it was time to cart their sorry, sodden asses back to the shop.

Edward sat up quickly (too quickly) and leaned over the toilet as his stomach betrayed him again. His eye throbbed in time with his pulse. He could swear he could feel his brain squirming around uncomfortably inside his skull.

Hell, everything hurt. Being hungover, he decided, sucked ass. He rocked back on his heels and rested his head on the porcelain rim.

But when she smiled, he thought, it was worth it.


	46. Mark

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

071: Mark

"Brother!" Alphonse gaped at Edward. The older teen was standing in the doorway of the Curtis's butcher shop looking like a tenderized piece of meat. Edward chuckled and scratched his neck.

"Hey, Al."

"What the hell happened to you?"

Edward shut the door sheepishly, avoiding the answer.

"Did Winry do that to you?"

"No!" Edward scowled. "Wrenches concuss, they don't give me a black eye."

"What does then?"

Edward scuffed a foot on the floor, and muttered something Alphonse couldn't hear. Alphonse crossed his arms and gave his brother a Look. Edward dodged his brother's glare and looked at the floor.

"EDWARD ELRIC."

Both boys jumped as Izumi Curtis's voice boomed from the other doorway.

"WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO COME BACK?"

"Teacher!" Edward ducked behind a counter to avoid her fist.

"AND WHAT DISCIPLE OF MINE LOSES A FIGHT?"

"How the hell did you hear that? And I didn't lose!" He yelped, trying to stay out of her reach. "I got kicked out!"

"KICKED OUT? I TAUGHT YOU BETTER MANNERS THAN THAT, EDWARD ELRIC."

"I whooped the guy's ass! He just had automail! And the bartender kicked me out for beatin' him!"

"YOU WERE DRINKING UNDERAGE?"

Edward found himself backed into a corner of the room. He looked pleadingly at his brother, but Alphonse was flattened against the wall, staying out of their teacher's way. As Izumi's foot came flying towards him, Edward hoped he wouldn't wind up looking like a raccoon in the morning.


	47. Rope

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

040: Rope

It had been almost a week since the Night (as Winry started calling her birthday celebration). Her knuckles still had little cuts—they were at that awkward itching stage where she knew if she scratched, they would just bleed and hurt more. Luckily, once she put her gloves on, she usually stopped thinking about the prickling itch.

Winry rarely took a day off from her work, but she rarely threw herself into her projects like she had over the last few days. Except when Edward was involved. A storekeeper's leg didn't have the same sense of urgency as Edward's splintered limbs usually did.

She was braiding the wires that served as nerves and conduits for the biological electricity which powered the limb. It was a technique her Granny taught her and Winry then brought it to Garfiel. The braids made everything nice and neat and saved room for the moving, mechanical components within the casing. One of the things she learned from rebuilding Edward so often was to make several braids, not one chunky rope. After all, one fell swoop could cut through every wire which would cause tremendous amounts of feedback, not to mention immobilize the limb.

Winry stopped for a moment and cracked her knuckles. Looking at the thick braid at the base of the connection as it split up and thinned out, she realized her life was like these wires.

During her childhood, all of the bits and pieces of her life were bound together. But slowly, some wires separated and went their own way. Her parents were wound around another, but they stopped well before the rest of the wires. Like the power supply for the elbow joint.

Then there were the wires that ran off on their own. These ones carried the translated nerve impulses from the connection shaft throughout the whole limb. They were patched and pieced together until they formed a loop, slowly returning back to the rest of the wires. These were her best friends, journeying away from home.

That was about as far as Winry could take the metaphor forming in her head. After all, no self-respecting mechanic would patch together the wires carrying the nerve impulses. Patches caused delay, and that made the automail react much more artificially. These wires needed to react as quickly as possible, without an active thought from the user.

Winry shook her head. What nonsense. Her life wasn't a poorly braided rope of wiring in a limb. Lives are made of more complicated stuff.

And such flights of fancy had no place in the workshop anyway.


	48. Indirectly

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

093: Indirectly

"...So when do you think you'll be back in town?"

"I dunno, Win. I only just got rid of my black eyes, I don't particularly fancy getting another one so soon."

"Black _eyes_? As in more than one?"

"Haha, yeah. Teacher kicked my ass when I came back. There wasn't much warning."

"What kind of teacher does that, Ed?"

"'To train the mind, you must first train the body.'"

"You've said that before, but it doesn't explain anything. Why'd she beat you up when you got back?"

"She packed me off and told me to work things out. I guess I didn't really work those things out to her satisfaction. Woulda helped if she'd _told _me what these mysterious 'things' were, though..."

"You alchemy freaks sure are weird."

"No stranger than you gear heads."

"...Some 'happy birthday' call this is turning into..."

"Huh?"

"Today's you're birthday, you dolt, that's why I called."

"Hey! I know that!"

"It's a shame Al's too young to take you out properly..."

"_You're_ still too young to go out drinking, Winry."

"Didn't seem to be a problem last week..."

"We got in on Paninya's reputation alone."

"Or maybe Rush Valley's just got the best bars in all of Amestris."

"That doesn't excuse its inhabitants."

"As a part time 'inhabitant,' I resent that."

"Tch... Ack! Hey! Al! Not cool!"

"What happened?"

"..."

"Ed? You there?"

"..."

"Edward?"

"–stupid little brother. There's no reason to waste perfectly good frosting like that..."

"...So Al nailed you with the spatula?"

"Right in the face. I think he's trying to get back at me for his birthday surprise."

"You guys are ridiculous."

"_He's_ ridiculous. I'm perfectly sensible, thanks very much."

"Yeah, and Den has four legs."

"She does!"

"Alchemy geek."

"Automail junkie."

"...So when's the next time you're gonna get kicked out?"


	49. Legend

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

045: Legend

Alphonse stared at his brother. Edward was nose deep in an new book from the store. Every now and then his nose would scrunch up and he'd give the book a paint-stripping scowl.

But Alphonse didn't think it had anything to do with the quality of the writing or any holes in the theories it presented. In fact, Edward hadn't turned the page in a full three minutes—millennia compared to his normal reading speed.

Instead, he believed his brother was perturbed by the suitcases sitting next to the kitchen door.

The Curtises told the brothers they would be going to South City for a week. At first, Edward was excited. The bubble popped when Izumi told him no children would be coming. Well, it popped when Edward realized he was being called a child.

Alphonse could read his brother's face like the book in Edward's hands.

The three wrinkles carved between his furrowed brows meant he was peeved.

The occasional twitch in his left cheek meant Alphonse would be hearing a rant soon.

The clenched jaw meant he was jealous.

Overall, Alphonse was surprised Edward's book hadn't burst into flames from the strength of the boy's ire.

Edward huffed.

Alphonse let out a long-suffering sigh and put his pen down to drop any pretense of paying attention to his journal.

Edward huffed.

Alphonse rubbed the bridge of his nose. This had to stop.

"What's the matter, brother?"

"I can't believe they're leaving us!"

**A/N:** Oh hey there. I've had a few computer errors, so... Sorry. Happy holidays!


End file.
